Lull
by Chalk
Summary: A Tale Of Boredom, Sadness, Love, And Routines From The Perspective Of Schrodinger. Captain x Schro And A Little Somewhat One Sided Rip x Schro, Along With A Couple Chapters Of Violence And A Few Yaoi Scenes.
1. Noise

I Am, As You May Imagine, Restless.

There Never Really Is Too Much To Do To Keep Occupied When Nothing's Going On.  
My Ears Perk, I Can Hear The Steady Hum Of Activity.I Don't Even Have To Check To See What's Going On,Too Many Days Like This I've Sat Around To See What The Others Do When They Have Free Time Of Their Own.

The Soft Sounds Of Well-Worn Playing Cards Being Turned On Wood Tables.  
The Flutter Of Book Pages.Bored Clinking Of Drinking Glasses, And Flasks.The Idle Chatter Of Soldiers, Riddled With Crude Humor And Mirth.That Always Gets Me, By The Way. I Hate It When People Go About Disgusting Jokes Thinking No One Can Hear Them.

The Scene's All Too Familiar.

It Might As Well Not Even Be Occurring, Because Those Same Sounds  
Are Replayed Every Day, The Same People, The Same Cards, The Same Vulgar Jokes.None Of It Even Interests Me.  
But, I Start For The Stairs Anyways,Even Though Here The Gentle Lull Of Rip's Operas And Sleepy Breaths Muffle The Sounds.

I Knew I Should Have Probably Just Laid In Bed Waiting For Exhaustion To Push  
The Din Of Their Boredom Into The Back Of My Mind So I Can Sleep; But, For Some Odd Reason, I Didn't.

The Floorboards' Timid Creaking Echoing In The Empty Halls.

I Had Reached The Beginning Of The Long Staircase That Lead To The Barracks Where Most People Wasted Their Time, But Something Stopped Me.

The Captain's Room.

I Have Always Liked The Captain.  
He Never Berates Me For My Clumsiness When It Comes To Tasks.He Never Tries To Intimidate Me.He Never Does Much Of Anything, And I Think That's One Of The Things I Enjoy.  
His Face Is Always Calm, And So Is He.Always So Confidant In What He Does, But Never Speaking A Word Of Self-Praise.

Sometimes, I Like To Watch Him Sleep.  
It's Odd, I Know, But He Always Seems At Peace When He's Asleep.Calm Is One Thing, But It's Very Hard To Feel Peaceful In These Times,

Even For The Captain.

I Slowly Turn The Knob, Afraid The Wry Creaking Of His Door Will Wake Him Up.  
Admittedly, I've Woken Him Up Before.On More Than One Occasion, To Be Perfectly Honest.I Was Sitting In A Chair, Watching The Sheets Rise And Fall With His Breathing,And Suddenly, His Eyes Shot Open, And I Stood Stock-Still.

Everything Was Okay, Though.

He Was How He Usually Is; Silent, And Composed.  
A Thin Smile Crossed His Lips And He Went Back To Sleep.

I Happily Recall That Day When I Made The Captain Smile, It Seems Nostalgic As I Press Against The Door, And Sit In The Same Chair I Always Do.

I Guess You Could Say I Like Being Around The Captain,  
He Has A Very Commanding Presence, I Think

When The Doc Makes Me Assemble Puzzles, And Solve Problems, While He Scribbles On His Clipboard,Always A Little Disappointed In Anything I Have To Offer Him, I Always Hope The CaptainWill Enter The Room With News From The Major,Because I Know I Always Try My Best When The Captain Is Near.

I Always Try To Impress Him.  
I Try My Hardest, When He Stares Vacantly At My As I Put Pieces Together, Not That My Best Is Always Impressive, But It's Reassuring To Know He's There.

I Glance Around His Quarters.  
It's Very Minimalist: A Nightstand, His Bed, A Desk, A Bookshelf, And One Window.  
His Uniform Is Folded Ever-Precisely And Set At The Foot Of His Bed, And  
His Hat Droops Somberly At His Nightstand.  
I Sigh Contently As I Count His Breaths.  
For Some Reason, I Have No Qualms About Sitting In His Room,  
I Always Feel At Ease Near Him, I've Even Forgotten The Din Of The Soldiers Downstairs.

My Eyes Ebb And Flow Between Sore And Soothed As I Open And Close My Eyes.

I Yawn As I Nestle On The Floor Beside His Bed.I Know It's Something I Probably Shouldn't Be Doing, That  
I Might Be Risking The Captain Smiling At Me As I Sit To Watch Him Sleep Again.  
But, I Can't Even Muster The Strength To Get Back To My Feet.

Oblivion Beckons Me, And The World Vanishes.  
All Is At Peace, Like The Captain In His Sleep.  
The Chiming Of Beer Glasses And Rustling Paper Gone As Well.

Normally, My Mind Would Race With Questions,  
But Now, I Feel At Ease As Well.  
And I Slept There, Carefree, And Curled At The Side Of The Captain,

Happy.


	2. Mornings

My Eyes Felt A Lot Like When I Keep Them Open In The Shower,  
They Stung Kind Of, But They Weren't Fighting For Sleep.

Everything Was Hazed For A Moment, And Light Flooded Back To My Eyes, Followed By The Sound Of The Captain's Sturdy Books Clicking Against The Wood Floors As He Walked Towards Me.  
His Stern Face Is Now Half-Concealed Behind The Collar To The Trenchcoat That He Wears. His Short Hair Plastered Against His Forehead Beneath The Band Of His Hat.

His Unerring Stare His Only Unmasked Feature.

He Looks Very Nice That Way; It's Mysterious.  
Like Him, It Says Nothing.

I Groan, Half Awake.  
I Don't Really Feel Like Getting Up, I'm Still Comfortable From Sleep,  
And I Know If I Get It, I'll Want To Stay Up.  
I Glance Down At My Uniform; I Look _Terrible_.  
My Jacket's Creased And Wrinkled, The Rest Lined With Dust From The Floor Where I'd Slept Last Night.

I Purr To Myself As The Captain's Gloved Hand Caresses Behind One Of  
My Ears, The Affectionate Gesture Feels Good, And It Makes Me Get To My Feet.

I Wiped The Sleep From My Eyes, And Tussle My Hair To The Way I Like It; A Little Restrained, But Still A Bit Wild.  
I Smooth Out The Folds In My Clothes; I Should At Least Try To Look Okay As I Head Back To My Room To Change And Prepare For The Morning.  
I Hastily Straighten My Jacket, And Give Myself Another Dusting,  
Before Quickly Saluting The Captain, And Leaving.

I Pass The Stairway To The Main Room I'd Been Thinking About Into Last Night; The One Full Of Drunks, Gamblers And The Other Pleasures We've Had The Privilege Of Having Join Our Ranks In Millennium.  
I Wrinkle My Nose In Mock Disgust As I Pass It.  
They're Really Not So Bad, But That Doesn't Mean I Like Them, Or That They're All That Good Either.

I Swing The Door To My Quarters Open, And Shut It Behind Me,  
Quickly Locking It To Avoid Prying Eyes; You Never Can Be Too Sure.

I Unbutton My Jacket, And Toss It Lazily To The Floor, Along With My Shirt, Shoes And Socks.  
I Laugh; They Look Kind Of Funny Piled Up In The Middle Of My Room.  
I Discard The Rest, Along With My Gloves And Head To My Shower.

I Glance In The Mirror.

I Guess I Look Okay Today, I Flash A Happy Smile And Laugh At My Cat-Like Teeth.  
They Certainly Look Mean If I Scowl.  
I Look At My Chest.  
I'm Very Thin, I Pride Myself On Managing To Look Decent In My Uniform,  
I Soothe A Couple Of Crease-Lines On My Skin From Where My Uniform Pressed Uncomfortable When I Slept  
Before I Climb Into The Shower And Turn The Faucet On To Hot.

It Takes A Little Longer To Work Than I'd Thought,

I Shiver Under The Cold Spray, Then Press Myself Into A Corner  
Until It Can Warm Up Enough To Get In.

I Get Out Of The Shower After A Quick Rinse, And Brush My Teeth,  
Then Pick One Of The Better-Ironed Uniforms From My Dresser.  
I Roll My Socks Up To My Knees And Pull My Gloves On Beneath My Sleeves.  
I Grab My Shirt From Last Night And Dry My Hair With It,  
Accidentally Pressing One Of My Ears Into The Damp Mess Of Hair.

I Wince; It Really Does Hurt, If You Do It By Accident.  
You Can't Prepare For It If You Don't Know It's Coming.

I Lace Up My Shoes And Walk Out To The Halls.

Two Of The Soldiers Tap Their Feet Impatiently At Me,  
Their Boots Making A Lighter Sound Than The Captain's.

"Where Were You Last Night, Schrodinger?"  
He Questions,  
"Some Of Us Really Wanted To Play Cards,"  
"Take Your Money." He Added Mischievously

I Shrug Off Their Question Casually,

"I Was With The Captain."

The One Who Hadn't Asked The Question Scoffed With Disbelief At My Answer And,  
Nudged His Comrade's Side With His Elbow.

"He Was With The Captain! Ha! The Captain!"

The Other Soldier Laughed As Well,  
"I Would Think The Captain Would Have Higher Priorities Than The Major's Pet, Wouldn't You?"

I Frown, What A Rude Question!

As If I'm Forgettable And They're Worth Remembering?  
I Am Warrant Officer; Am I Not?  
And They?  
They're Soldiers! Grunts!

"Just What Were You Doing With Our Captain, Anyways?"

"Sleeping," I Reply Absently, And A Little Too Quickly.

Both The Soldiers Stare Appalled At Me, And I Knew What Was Running In Their Thoughts, So I Quickly Corrected Them.

"No, No. That's Not What I Meant!"

One Laughs To The Other, And They Walk Away.  
Eagerly Chatting Behind My Back, But I Can Hear Bits And Pieces Of It.

"_Schrodinger…Slept…Night…Captain…_"  
Followed By Annoying Laughter.

I Flash The Scowl I'd Seen In The Mirror At Them,  
Adding An Extra Bit Of Malice, Just In Case They Saw My Teeth.  
Those Cowards Didn't Have The Nerve To Say It To Me Personally.

I Go Downstairs, And Turn Into The Lunch Hall.  
Nothing Smells Particularly Good,  
Nor Does Anything Look The Part Either.

I Pick Up A Tray, And Walked Through The Lane,  
Taking A Small Meal, And Some Water.

I Sit Next To The Captain, Making Idle Conversation Between Bites,  
Not Expecting An Answer, But At Least A Bit Of Understanding.  
I Can Always Talk To The Captain,  
But Talking To Any Of The Soldiers Is Like Being A Soldier;  
Bets, Liquor, And Vulgar Jokes, No Serious Or Worthwhile Point To It.

Time Passes Back To That Time I Hate.  
The Soldier's Golden Hours,  
Where The Only Conversations Going On Are The Ones  
They Typically Start, And That Unending Hum Of Beer-Glasses And Paper Starts.

I Consider Returning To The Captain, And Sleeping At His Bedside Again Tonight. I Know That No Matter What Amount Of Hazing I Get For It, I Won't Be Tired In The Morning, Because I'll Sleep Easy.  
Then, I Recall The Pigsy Belly-Laughs Of The Two Soldiers This Morning, And Inwardly Curse Them.

I Don't Even Know Their Names, And I Dislike Them.  
I Won't Give Them The Pleasure Of Laughing At Me Tomorrow.

I Shut The Door To My Room, And Slip Beneath The Ill-Fitting Covers,

It's Too Hot In Here.  
My Mind Races As It Thinks Up Questions,  
And The Chiming Of Glass Echoes In The Hallways With A New Opera Droning From Rip's Quarters.

I Scowl At No One In Particular.

"_Bastards._"


	3. Hate

_A Special Thanks To Alip99, For The Ever-Supportive Attitude, And Helpful Hands They've Shown Me._

_Thank You. _

* * *

"_Disappointing!"_  
The Doctor Madly Scribbles Down Notes Upon Notes As I Assemble A Ring-Puzzle.  
"_Profoundly_ Disappointing" He Cries.  
I Fumble With The Final Metal Ring, It Doesn't Quite Fit Into The Slot I Think It Does.  
My Fingers Lose Hold, It Rolls Off The Table To The Floor  
With A Light Metal Chime As It Skips Away.  
I Sigh Emptily And Look Up At The Doctor, I Can See His Brow Furrowed With Dissatisfaction. 

He Looks Up From His Clipboard, His Eyes Grotesquely Deformed And Fly-Like Behind His Glasses,  
And Combs A Six-Fingered Hand Through His Hair.  
"You Really Can't Do _Anything_ Right, Can You?"  
"It's Fine", He Finishes Dryly Not Even Waiting For Me To Answer,  
"We Will Try A Similar Procedure Tomorrow."

I Really Do Hate When I Have To Do Things Like This,  
With The Doctor Pointing Out Every Mistake I Make, Never Satisfied With Me.  
Always Jotting Away Behind His Glasses And Papers, While I Silently  
Piece Together Whatever He Lays Before Me.  
I Kept Hoping The Captain Would Interrupt, And I Could Think For A Moment  
Without The Scientist Bearing Down Against My Unskilled Hands,  
But He Never Did, Not That I Hold It Against Him, Or Anything.  
I Mean, Its Not Like He Decides When He Needs To Bring Orders.

The Doctor Picks Up The Metal Ring That Fell From The Table,  
"And Next Time, Don't Leave Me So Very _Disappointed!_"

I'm Starting To Wonder If He Just Likes The Sound Of That Word,  
He Always Shouts It About Whenever I Fail One Of His Tests;

They Really Are Tedious Too, I Doubt Some Of The Soldiers Swapping Crude Jokes And Beer  
Downstairs Could Work Some Of The Puzzles He Gives Me.

I Stand Up, And Quietly Leave The Room, A Hefty Slam Following My Footsteps  
As I Shut The Door To The Laboratory The Fly-Man Locks Himself Away In.  
He's Never Please With Anything I Do.  
I Don't Need Him, He's Not Perfect Either, No Matter How Much He'd Like You To Believe He Is,  
But He's Done A Great Job Convincing Me I'm A Failed Effort.

I Slammed My Door, Too.  
The Mechanical _Click _Assures Me It's Locked.

I Look Out The Window Of My Room,  
I Usually Am Able To Tell Around What Time It Is By Checking Outside,  
But Everything's Dark Outside Today, And Rain Blackens The Smooth Concrete  
That Makes Up Most Of Millennium's Facilities.

It's Kind Of Nice, Actually.

I Could Sleep To The Sound Of The Rain Dancing Away On My Rooftop,  
Not That I'm Going To, Though. The Steady Pulse Of Adrenaline And Stress  
Courses Through My Head, And I Don't Think I Could If I Actually Tried.  
I Frown In The Direction Of The Laboratory Door That I Slammed.  
I Can Honestly Say I Hate The Doctor Sometimes.  
He Always Makes It A Point To Let Me Know I've Failed.

Every Time.

It's Practically Become Routine For Him To Do So.  
I Slump Down In Bed For A Bit To Clear My Head.  
A Shower Would Have Probably Been Better,  
But I Don't Really Feel Like Having To Deal With The Hassle Of Drying My Ears.

They're Very Delicate.

I Remember, Once, I Was Doing A Rotating Puzzle, Where I Had To Line Up All The Dots  
Of The Same Color Into Rows By Turning Sides And Pieces.  
It Had Taken Me Hours, And I Hadn't Finished It,  
And The Doctor Was Barking At Me Like An Angry Dog.  
I Snapped At Him, And Told Him I Hated Him, And He Seized One Of My  
Ears Between His Fingers And Pressed, Very Hard, Down On It.

I Left In Tears Cursing Him Within An Earshot.

I Sigh And Straighten Out The Collar On My Shirt, Then My Tie, Which I Tuck Neatly Beneath My Jacket-Buttons.  
If You're Going To Be An Officer Of Any Sort, You May As Well Look The Part.  
I Go Into The Bathroom, And Look At My Reflection.  
I Look Decent, A Little Bit Depressed, But, Who's To Say I'm Not?  
I Pull Down On The Bottom Of My Jacket, Smoothing It Out Before Heading Into The Corridors  
That Are Lined With The Doors To Our Rooms.

Zorin Snorts As She Pushes Past Me, And Heads Downstairs.  
I Glare, Hoping She Catches A Little Glimpse Of It,  
Or Can At Least Feel It, Like People Sometimes Do.

Zorin; I'm Not Surprised She's Popular Among The Soldiers.  
She's Incompetent And Foul-Mouthed, Just Like Them,  
And Just Like Them, She's Full Of Liquor And Disgusting Jokes.  
Generally, People Like Others With The Same Qualities.

I Press Against The Door To The Captain's Room Hollowly,  
It Swings Ajar With The Perpetual Squeak As The Hinges Slide.  
The Captain It Sitting At His Desk, Thumbing Through The Pages Of A Book,  
Which He Folds Closed When He Notices My Face.

The Captain Is Very Skillful At Reading The Faces Of People.  
He Can Pick Apart Fear, Sadness, And Anger Without  
A Single Movement Or Flinch Of His Hidden Face.

I Sprawl Myself Out On His Bed, And Heave A Empty Sigh,  
Just In Case He Wasn't Able To Read My Face When I Came In.  
I Make Sure To Look Sad; I Let My Face Go Slack,  
I Open My Eyes So They Can Be Looked Into And Gaze Off Into Nothing,  
Letting My Lips Droop In Light Pout.

I Can See The Captain's Face Looks A Little Bit Like Mine Behind His  
Coat's Collar, And Beneath The Brim Of His Hat.  
His Unyielding, Piercing Eyes Tinged With The Faint Beginnings Of Concern.  
The Room Falls Silent, But I Can Feel The Rattle Of The Pointless Ongoings  
Of The Soldiers Downstairs, I Can't Even Hear Them,  
But I Can Feel The Vibrations Coursing Through The Floorboards Like The Plague.

I Recall The Day The Doctor Grabbed My Ears.  
I Recall The Idle Taunts Of The Soldiers.  
I Recall Zorin's Grunt Of Dismissal As She Shoved Past Me,  
And The Feeling Of Being Unable To Leave The Doctor Pleased.

Sudden, My Mask Of Sadness To Captivate The Captain's Eyes Cracks.  
A True Sadness Sinks It's Teeth Into My Heart, And I Don't Even Know Why.  
Burning Tears Brim Against My Eyes, And Spill Down Against My Cheeks.  
And I Whimper Weakly As I Lock My Teeth Together To Keep Quieter.

"_I Hate Them._"

I Whisper Behind My Teeth.  
I Pour Every Morsel Of Anger, Every Ounce Of Bitterness That  
Collected Over The Past Few Boredom-Filled Days Into Those Words.

The Captain Pushes His Book To The Side Of His Desk, And Calmly, As He Always Is, Steps His Way To His Bed  
I Look Up To Meet His Eyes, My Eyes Raw, Ablaze With More Tears  
Than I Can Ever Remember Streaming Down My Face.

The Captain Ambles His Gloved Hands Over My Ears, And Gently Traces Another Down My Chest, Before Pulling Me Into Him.  
My Tears Staining The Outside Of His Jacket In Thick Circles And Streaks,  
My Voice Cracking Under Frustration As I Repeat Myself Over And Over Again  
Into His Side Where His Iron-Pressed Sleeve Cradles Me.

I Wipe My Eyes, Only To See I've Made A Mess Out Of The Uniform  
He Always Goes Through The Trouble Of Repressing For Every Morning.

"I'm Sorry," I Whisper.

He Rests A Sturdy Hand Against My Back In Silent Response,  
Assuring Me Everything's Okay, Even His Jacket.

My Head Falls With The Rain Against His Roof.  
The Gentle Beat Of His Heart Eases My Mind.  
I Sleep Soundly In His Arms, My Newly Calm Face Still Undoubtedly Streaked With Tears.


	4. Fondness

A Little Bit Of Sunlight Flickers Against My Eyes, And I Stir From Sleep.  
The Bed Beneath Me Is Comfortable With Age, And It Sags Slightly Beneath Me.

The Captain Is Next To Me, His Arm Draped Over Mine In Sleep.  
I Like How He Looks Sleeping; Perfectly Comfortable, Even As One Who's Purpose Is Death.  
I Smile To Myself, And Quietly Ease Myself From Bed, Careful Not To Tip Over  
The Captain's Uniform That Rests At The Edge Of His Bed In Ritualistic Perfection.  
He Really Does Make My Life A Lot Easier.

I Cross Over Into My Quarters To Prepare For Today Meeting In The War Room.  
I Slide Out Of Yesterday's Uniform, And Fold It Like I Do My Others,  
Then Set It At The Foot Of My Bed Like The Captain Does His.  
I'll Take It To Be Cleaned Later.

I Shower, Dry Everything But My Ears, And Brush My Teeth.  
I Change Into A Clean Uniform, And Lace Up.

The Meeting's Going To Be Long, Probably Boring, Too.  
I Stop Putting On My Shoes To Listen To An Opera Drifting Through The Halls From Rip.  
I Don't Really Care For Opera Myself, But The Singer Of This One Has A Very Nice Voice.  
I Wonder If She's A Nice Person, In Real Life?

I Finish My Laces, And Knock On Rip's Door.  
I Put My Arms Behind My Back, And Smile.  
She Opens The Door, And The Smell Of Rifle Lubricant Hits Me.  
"What?" She Questions Cynically.

I Cock My Head Slightly, "What Opera Is This?"  
I Slip Past Her And Sit On Her Bed.

She Straightens Her Necklace So It Lines Up With The Collar Of Her Uniform.  
"I Don't Know," She Says Somewhat Guiltily,  
"I Heard It In A Transit, And I Liked The Sound Of It,"

She Digs Through Her Dresser And Rolls On A Pair Of Gloves. "Now Then, Did You Need Something," She Begins,  
"Or Do You Just Like Idle Chit-Chat To Start Your Day?"  
I Frown.  
Idle Chit-Chat's What The Soldiers Make When They're Bored,  
I Don't Really Like Being Linked To Them So Much.  
"Do You Have Anything To Read?"

She Stares In Half-Belief.

I Don't Like Reading So Much, I'm Good At It, But It Makes My Eyes Hurt,  
And Sometimes, I Get Headaches From Doing It, So It's Not Really Worthwhile,  
But Neither Is Listening To Other People's Assignments And Ministrations  
As The Meeting Drones On, And I'm Left Bored With Nothing To Do.

Rip Hands Me A Battered Copy Of A Book, With A Small Ship Stamped In The Middle Of It.  
It's Very Nondescript, But It's Heavy For It's Size.  
"What's It About?"

Rip Sighs At My Questioning, As She Laces Up Her Boots."It's Called '_Faust_', It's About A Man Who Sells His Soul."  
I Flip Through The Pages, Looking At Some Of The Pictures, And Characters.  
"You're So Morbid, I Swear."

Rip Glares At Me,  
"Plays Are _Not_ Morbid," She Snips,  
"They're Very High-Class, And Educating,"  
She Arches An Eyebrow At Me, "Like _Some People_ Are Not."

She Pulls Her Laces And Ties Them Into An Intricate Loop.  
"Don't Ruin It."

I Thank Her And Tuck The Book Into My Pocket Before Heading Into The Meeting Room.

It's Very Boring.  
So Is The Book.  
I Half-Heartedly Thumb Through The Pages  
As The Major Addresses The Current Situation And Questions The Doctor As Well As Several Of Our Soldiers On Issues.

The Major's An Odd Person.  
He Smiles A Lot, But I Can See Behind It.  
That Perpetual Mask Of A Grin Is The Only Thing Hinging Him From Lashing Out At The World.  
Anything He Says, Everything He Does, Has A Subtle Stain Of Malice And Force To It,  
A Lot Like A Threat.  
He's A Good Leader; The Veiled Dagger Behind His Words Is Enough To Keep Everyone In Line.  
He Questions The Doctor On My Progression.

The Doctor Turns To Face Me, His Insect-Like Glasses Locked To The Sockets Of His Face.  
"Would _You_ Care To Answer Herr Major, Schrodinger?"

My Mind Races, I Can Tell He's Looking For A Chance To Break Me For My Failures,  
And For My Annoyance At Him When I Slammed His Door Last Night.

I Think Of A Rude, Yet Working Answer To His Question.

"No Thank You Doctor," I Start, Being Sure To Add A Lilt Of Superiority To My Voice.  
I Turn Smugly Towards Him,  
"You May."

His Lips Sink In Displeasure.  
Before He Has A Parade On My Various Disappointments.

The Major Looks Relatively Unmoved, And Tells The Doctor To Remain Diligent,  
"His Abilities Are Vital," He Assures,  
"And He's Reading, That Is A Sign Of Progress."

The Inside Of Me Is Laughing Hysterically At The Major,  
Progress?  
More Like Boredom!

The Major Declares The Meeting Over,

And I Head Downstairs, Thoroughly Please With My Retort To The Doctor,  
He Deserved It, Trying To Make An Example Out Of Me.  
He Still Did, But I Put Him In His Place, Too.

I Can Hear Zorin Cheering On The Soldiers.

Brusquely Shouting On About Men, Drinking And Sex.  
It's Barely The Afternoon, And I'm Almost Certainly She's Been Drinking.  
I Sit A Seat Away From Her, Noticing Her, But Ignoring Her, Too.

"So, I Heard You're Dok's Number One Failure, Eh?"  
She Slurs, Laughing At Her Own Joke With The Soldiers.

She Isn't Exactly Beautiful, To Be Honest.  
She Stinks Of Beer And Sweat.  
Her Tattoos Failing To Help That Odd Eye Of Hers Look Any Better.

"It's Nice To See You Too,"  
I'm Sure To Drip With Sarcasm.

"Hear You're Rather Fond Of Our Captain, Too."  
She Smirks, It's A Superior Smirk.  
She's Got Me Cornered And She Knows It.

"And, If I _Am_?"  
I Don't Even Wait For Her To Answer; Because I Know It It's A Rude Thing To Do.  
"I Bet You Can't Do Any Better."

Her Eyes Widen In Offence,  
She Growls With Primal Disgust, As She Demands More Drinks.

I Smirk Back In Triumph As I Leave To Return Rip's Book.

I Make It Back Upstairs,  
And Knock At Rip's Door.  
Honestly? I Don't Mind Rip.  
She's Decent, And She Doesn't Start Fights, Usually.

She Opens The Door, And Without A Word, I Hand Her The Book.  
"How Was Is?" She Questions.

I Snort In Dismissal To Her Question,  
"Sitting Through The Meeting Would've Been Better."  
I Reply Playfully.

She Shoos Me Away,  
"You Just Don't Appreciate The _Finer_ Things In Life."  
I Stick Out My Tongue, And Leave.  
If Dry Books Are Fine, Then I Sure Don't.

I Waltz Across The Halls Into The Captain's Room, And Let Myself In.  
He's Sitting At His Desk Like He Was Last Night, Reading.

I Wonder If He's Into Dry Books Like Rip?

I Ask Him What Book It Is, Laughing A Little Bit At The Fact That I Did,  
Because I Know He Won't Really Answer From Where He Is,  
And Because I Doubt He'd Really Speak In Any Situation, To be Honest.

I Flop Lazily Down On His Bed Like I Usually Do When I Can.  
"Thank You," I Say, Dashing Away The Comedy Of The Last Sentence.  
"For Last Night."

He Nods Thoughtfully Behind His Book.

I Step Over What I Would Usually Consider One Of My Boundary, And Close His Book.  
He Glances Up At Me, His Piercing Gaze Bores Away At Me.  
I Wrap My Arms Around Him, And His Air Of Tension Melts Away.

Suddenly, I Ponder What I Said To Zorin.

Was I Entertaining The Idea Of The Captain And I?  
Maybe I Was, And If Others Already Assumed It,  
What Was The Harm Of It Being Truth?

One Side Of Me Screams That Holding The Captain Is Wrong,  
The Other Melts As His Arms Go Around Me.

We Sit Like That For Minutes, But It Feels Like Hours.

One Side Of Me's Winning The War Between The Other,  
And It Becomes Apparent As To Which When A Fine Dusting Of Pink Graces My Face,  
And I Feel My Face Burning With Warmth Beneath Him.  
A Ghost Of A Smile,A Mere Step Up From A Blank Expression Comes From The Captain.  
He Pulls Back So Our Eyes Are Even And Closes The Distance Between Us.

I Gasp Inwardly As The Side Of Me Denying Everything Explodes Into Panic.One Of The Captain's Hands Is Just Beneath My Head, It's Thumb Barely Brushing The Bottom Of One Of My Ears, But Still Pulling That Pinprick Of Touch From Me.  
The Captain's Lips Pass His Collar, And Hover In The Air For Moments Before TheyBrush Against Mine In A Chaste Kiss.  
I Sink Into The Affectionate Touch, Before The Winning Side Of Me Claims It's Victory.  
The Scent Of Burnt Sugar Pours Off Him.

This Isn't Like The Captain.  
The Captain Is Like Unwavering Stone.  
I Ease Off From Him, And Collect My Senses.  
I Salute Quickly, And Storm Away To My Quarters.

I Slept Easily That Night.

I Dreamt Of Another Day Like Today,  
Where I Knew What To Do, And Unafraid, Pledged Myself.  
Where The Rain Danced Away On The Roof,  
And I Happily Slipped Away Into Sleep,  
With The Lull That Was The Captain.


	5. Division

Something Sounds Like Dropped Fruit,  
A Lot Like A Hollow Thump.  
It Happens Again, Only A Little More Hurried And Impatient.

I Groan As My Limbs Stretch, And I Kick The Blankets From Myself.  
I Slip On The Jacket And Pants Of Yesterday's Uniform And Answer The Door.  
It's Rip.  
She Actually Looks Very Splendid, To Tell You The Truth.

Her Proud Face Shining With The Morning Sun Behind Her Glasses,  
The Typical Flowing Black Dress, And Musket At Hand.  
I Sleepily Smooth Out My Uniform To Look A Little Nicer.

"Yes?" I Practically Yawn.

She Drops The Butt Of Her Gun To The Floor,  
And Casually Leans Over The Barrel.  
"There's Another Meeting Today, Schrodinger."

She Adjusts Her Glasses So They Sit Evenly.  
"I Understand They're Briefing Everyone's Next Departures."  
She Flashed A Genuine Smile.  
She Honestly Can Be Very Pleasant When She's In The Mood To.  
I Thanked Her And Sleepily Went About My Morning Rituals.

I Walked Quietly To My Seat In The War Room.  
It's Very Serious In Here, It Always Is.  
The Bold Declarations Of Triumph And Power Of The Major  
Echoing With Footsteps Off The Massive, Wide Walls Of The Room.  
The Room Smells Like Cleaning Products.

Sterile, A Lot Like A Medical Bay.  
Sometimes, I Wonder If That Smell Trails In With The Doctor.

The Meeting Was Exhilarating.  
Usually, I'd Be Halfway Through A Dream Until They Brought Up  
Something That Actually Concerned Me, But We Were Being Assigned  
Partners And Work And I Couldn't Be Any More Away If I'd Wanted To.  
My Heart Was Beating So Fast My Chest Hurt.  
My Ears Were Grabbing And Questioning Each Word From The Major's Mouth,  
Even The Ones That Had Nothing To Do With Me, Or What I'd Be Working On.  
Put Simply, I Was Excited, Eager To Find Out Who I Would Be Paired With.

"_The Captain._"

Part Of Me Ached For Him, And Begged For His Name.  
But, It Wasn't Called With Mine.  
It Was Called Next To Zorin's.

Part Of Me Soured Like Vinegar.

Why Would Any Form Of Reasoning Call For Them To Be Together?  
Why Not Let Birds Flock Together And Send Her With The Rest Of The  
Casual Drunks That She Parades Around With?  
Why Does She Need The Help, Being Strong And Violent By Nature?  
Why Did She Need To Be With One Of Millennium's Best Protectors?  
Why Did She Deserve The Captain?  
Part Of Me Was Just Bitter Over Our Previous Exchange Of Remarks,  
But A Different Part Was Wounded Over The Major's Decisions.

"_Schrodinger!_"

The Major's Voice Boomed As If He Were A Ringmaster,  
Addressing An Audience Of Misfits And Laughing Fools.  
It Broke My Train Of Thought, And Actually Scared Me A Little.

Who'd Have Thought Such A Short, Stumpy Little Man Would Have Such A Loud Voice?

But Then Again, Who'd Have Thought He Was Leading An Army, Either?  
I Look Up At Him, With A Mask Of Dignity And Respect.

"_You'll Be Working With First Lieutenant Rip Van Winkle._"  
His Voice Is Stern, And Doesn't Waver The Slightest.

I Reluctantly Give Way To His Word.

"_Yes, Major._"

I Enjoy Rip's Company More Than Others,  
Part Of Me Is Simply Glad I'm Not The One Paired With Zorin;  
But Another Part Of Me Is Crushed, Being Without The Captain.  
The Meeting Drones On For The Remainder Of It's Time,  
My Once-Excited Ears Now Only Picking Up Bits And Scraps Of Words, And My Name.

The Major Finally Fold His Arms Over His Wide Chest And, Flashing That Smile That Hides His Inner-Workings,  
And Betrays His Appearance, Calls The Meeting To A Closure.  
The Echo's Of Footsteps Assault My Ears, And I Try To Slip Out Unseen.

I Leave Somewhat Empty With The Knowledge That For The Next Week Or So,  
I Will Not Been In The Company With The Man Who Brought His Lips To Mine With A Smile.  
Zorin Suddenly Stamps Proudly In Front Of Me.  
She Kneels Slightly So We're Eye-To-Eye With One Another.  
I Back Away A Little, I Don't Like What She's Doing.  
She Turns That Twisted Socket Called An Eye At Me, Tattoos Drowning It In A Sea Of Ink.

"You're Right."  
That Superior Smirk Shown To Me By So Many Others Splays Across Her Tattoos.  
"I _Couldn't_ Do Better."  
She Trails Along Behind The Captain, Scythe Gripped In Calloused Hands.  
Something Tells Me She Knows She Hurt Me,  
And She Probably Meant To, Too.

Rip Arches An Eyebrow Behind Her Glasses.  
So Much For Slipping Out Unseen On My Part.  
"Would You Care To Explain That?"

I Wave Dismissively.  
"No."

I Turn To Her, She Straightens Her Medallion, And Props Her Rifle On Her Shoulder.  
"Right Then, Shall We Go?"

I Nod Unexcitedly, And We Leave For The Trains,I Know A Little Bit Of Me Is Sitting SilentlyNext To Zorin, On A Train Two Rails Down,  
Ready To Veer Off Into The Adjacent Camps.  
I Sigh, Flipping Through One Of Rip's Novels While She Sips Quietly At Her Tea.

It'll Be A Hard Time Spent.


	6. Arrival

The Soft Hum Of The Truck's Engine Is Kind Of Soothing.

Like A Living, Yet Unerring Pulsation Of A Lullaby Asking Me To Rest.

But, I Always Decline.

It's Been A Good Hour Or So Since We've Left The Train Stations,

Unfortunate For Us, Rails Cannot Take You Everywhere.

Everything In This Disgusting Vehicle Is Soaked With Sweat, And I Can Smell It.

I'm Starting To Miss The Train; Where Kind Women Paced The Aisles Asking Us If We'd Like More Tea Or Perhaps Something To Eat As We Approach The Transits On Smooth Rails.

Now, It Seems Everything's Getting Worse As We Approach The Camp, A Mere Mile Of So Away From The Captain, And Zorin's, But A Mile's Still A Mile, More Or Less.

Rifles And Dented Metal Footlockers Full Of Our Belongings And Clothes Rattle In The Back,

As Our Sweat-Soaked Ride To The Camps Passes Over Rugged Ground.

Rip's Rifle Is Folded Neatly Over Her Lap, As The Thought Of It Being Beaten And Dented

With The Rest Of Our Things In The Back Drove Her Into Despair At Mention.

This Odd Nervousness Is Soaked Into The Car, Along With The Sweat.

We All Feel It.

Rip, Uneasily Toying The Hammer Of Her Gun Back And Forth.

The Driver, Silently Tapping The Wheel In Tension.

Me, Mentally Screaming.

Everyone On This Trip's Nervous As Sin, It's Like A Curse.

It's The Curse Of Existence, I Suppose.

Everyone Fears That Their Life Could Be Taken, Or Their Minds Pried Away By Harsh Realities.

Even Me, Who In Most Situations, Feel Invincible, Fear That Somehow The Doctor,

Could Pull Up Behind Us, And I'll Wake Up, Strapped To A Table As His Sterile, Gloved Hands Wrench Out My Very Being In An Instance. Then I Die, I'm Alone; Blind, Deaf, And Silent.

These Morbid Thoughts Are Starting To Scare Me, And I Think Rip Can Tell.

She Lets A Gloved, Trigger-Steadied Hand Fall To My Shoulder In Reassurance As We Pull Up.

The Camp's Barbed-Wire And Wrought Iron Gates Loom Over Us In Greeting.

It's Stern Pose Highlighted Only By The Headlights.

The Car Pulls Up; Our Driver Steps Out, And Politely Holds Open Our Doors Like We're Guests, Not New Arrivals To A War-Torn, Boredom-Infected Frontier.

Rip Brushes Out Her Dress, And Steps Out.

I Step Out After Her, And We're Escorted Inside To Our Quarters.

It's Not That Great.

It's Less Personal Than Our Own Rooms, Not That That's A Compliment.

Generally, We Are Moved Around A Lot, So Our Rooms Are Kind Of Bland.

It's Standard, To Say The Least;

Two Beds, Adjacent To Eachother, A Desk Pushed To The Back, A Single Window.

I Sit On My Bed With A Dull Creak Of It's Springs,

And Sigh As I Tug At My Bootstrings, Untying Them.

I Roll Off My Socks, And Slide Them Lazily Into The Empty Shoes,

Set The Shoes At My Bedside, And Kick The Footlocker-Style Suitcase That

I'd Carried With Me Under My Bed; I'm Not In The Mood To Unpack, I'm Tired.

Rip Silently, And Almost Politely Has Gone About Putting Away Her Things.

I Smile To Myself As She Unpacks A Meticulously Disassembled Record Player.

Opera, No Doubt.

Typical Rip.

I Contemplate Going To Sleep; It's Late, And Probably The Best Use Of Time.

Nothing's Going To Happen This Late, And I _Am_ Tired.

But There's A Harrowing Issue.

I Don't Really Want To Undress In Front Of Rip.

I Wouldn't Feel Comfortable In My Undergarments Infront Of Someone I've Known,

Let Alone Someone I'd Be Living With For A Good Period Of Time.

It's Just Very Awkward.

I Begin To Undo The Buttons To My Uniform.

Incentive.

She Tips Her Glasses, And Smirks.

Not _Enough_ Incentive…

I Motion For Her To Turn, Annoyed.

She Chuckles To Herself And Hold Her Hand Over Her Glasses.

I Slip Out Of My Uniform, And Quickly Bolt Under The Covers.

"You Can Look Now."

I Mutter, A Little Embarrassed, Still.

Rip Slides Her Glasses Off.

She Looks Very Odd Without Them On.

"You Really Are _Childish_, Schrodinger."

She Remarks, She's Very Condescending About It.

I Frown, But Maybe It Is Kind Of Childish.

That Doesn't Mean I Have To Admit It, Though.

I Glare.

She Takes Off Her Gloves, And Boots, Then Motions For Me To Look Away.

I Laugh.

"_Childish!_" I Scold.

Nevertheless, I Look Away.

It Seems To Be The Beginning Of A Long, Long Period Of Exchanged Remarks.

I Can't Say I'm Looking Forward To All Of It.

Rip Bids Me Goodnight; Looking Oddly Misplaced In Her Nightgown.

I Remember The Captain, And Twist Restlessly Beneath The Blankets.

I Yearn For Him; A Mile Away He Is Trapped With Zorin In A Camp Like This.

I Wonder If He's Looking Blankly At The Ceiling, Like Me?

Of Course He Is.

No Doubt He Is.

I Consider The Possibilities.

I Could Actually Move Myself There.

A Quick Defiance Of Time, And Space; A Teleport Of Sorts, That's All It Takes.

But, I'm Supposed To Be Here.

I'm Tired.

Zorin's There.

All Good Reasons To Sleep.

I Imagine The Hum Of The Engine In The Sweat-Bucket Car.

It Asking Me, Ever Resilient In It's Doing So, To Sleep.

I Drift Away.


	7. Becoming Beelzebub

_"__My Baby's Pretty As A Car-Crash,  
Sexy As The Stinger Of A Hornet In Your Arm,  
Just Another Modern Swinger, Screaming 'Catch Me If You Can!'  
With A Cigarette In Hand And It's Love.  
It's Heavy, And It Hurts, And It's Love."_

_  
-_The Pink Spiders, '_Modern Swinger_'

...What I Wrote Most Of This To.

* * *

It Started As A Normal Day, But It Will Never Stray Too Far From My Thoughts. 

It Was A Typical, Nondescript Morning; I'd Learned I Was To Visit Another Camp A Good Distance To The South Where The Doctor Wanted To Chart

My Progress As A Cognitive, Sentient Being; It's Insulting To Hear You Still Need Work.

I'd Gotten Up, Cleaned, Dressed, And Primed For The Day.

It's Been A Week Or So Spent Idle Here At The Camp;

One Of Those Days Full Of Bedside Conversation, Picking At Food, Pondering, And Yawning.

If I'd Made Any Progress Whatsoever Here, It's Only A Little, But, If There's One Thing I Know About The Doctor And His Workings, It's That He's A Perfectionist, Tried And True.

Any Little Progress Or Detail Is A Heroic Landmark To Him.

A Man In A Exquisitely-Ornate And Steam-Pressed Suit Waited Outside My Door.

"The Doctor Would Like To See You," He Said, His Voice Unforgivingly Commanding.

"It Is Of The _Utmost Importance_, I _Assure_ You."

I Hardly Call A Routine Progression-Check Important.

Somewhere, Stuffed In That Oversized, Stiff Suit Of His Is A Card He's Reading From, I Swear.

I'm Starting To Wonder If Maybe The Doctor Asked Him To Be So Formal?

"I'll Be Your Escort To Camp Schwartzchild," He Growled.

He Has A Smoker's Voice, One Bleached Out By Heavy Drinking In Years Long Passed, Too.

"From Thereon, The Camp's Staff Will Lead You To The Doctor,"

He Turned His Hard Stare To Me.

"He's Very _Interested_ In You, You Know. _Always_."

Eerie.

We Left The Camp Out, And Stepped Out Into The Hangar-Area, Where Another Vehicle Like The One That Brought Me To This Place To Begin With Was; Although This One Was A Little Nicer.

The Seats Were Well-Kept, And It Smelled Musty, But Not Disgusting, Entirely.

It Was A Quiet Ride.

From What Little Time I've Spent With My Unnerving Escort, I Know He's A Quiet Fellow,

But, That's Actually Good, Because I'm Not Sure If He'd Be Better Talking To Begin With.

The Road's A Lot Smoother.

But That _Engine-Hum…_

It Almost Made Me Sleep Last Time, And I'm Still Tired, Seeing As I Just Recently Woke Up.

I'm Half-Awake, Slumped Wearily In The Backseat.

Then, The First Of It Begins.

A Boom, Like Thunder In A Lightening Storm In Echoing Room.

We Spin Out, And Careen Off The Road.

I'm Thrown About, My Stomach Already Internally Doing Acrobatics.

Some Of That's Going To Bruise, But It's The Least Of My Concerns.

We're Upside Down.

I Scream In Panic At The Driver To Do Something,

To Rev Up The Car, Or For Some Direction As Of What To Do.

But He's Silent.

I Fall To The Ceiling As I Unfasten The Buckle Holding Me To My Seat,

And Stare Down In Horror At Him, His Face Lost Amidst Blood And Broken Glass.

I Hear Footsteps, Heavy Ones. The Kind That Rocket Off Boots And Gravel.

"_Check For Survivors." _One Mutters Quickly.

"_Driver's Out._" The Other Replies, Just As Rushed.

I'm Cowering Behind The Driver Seat.

This Doesn't Seem Good.

I'll Come Out When I'm Sure As Of Who's Alliance They're Taking.

The Quiet Driver Moans In Pain Against The Shards Of Glass Incoherently.

"_I Rather Think You're Wrong._" Quips The First.

A Gunshot Rings In The Air, And More Glass Shatters As The Driver Falls Quiet Again.

"_I Rather Think I'm Not._" Snaps The Second.

This Is Terrible.

I Would Usually Just Teleport Away,

But I'm Too Rattled To Do Anything.

I Just Press Myself Against The Seat As Hard As I Can, And Hold My Breath.

The Steps Get Closer.

"_He's Not Alone!_" Cries One Of Them.

My Mind Panics, Do I Stay Still, Do I Come Out, Or Do I Try To Fight Them?

I Try To Calm Down.

If I Come Out, They Might Shoot At Me, If I Stay They Might Do The Same, And I'm Weaponless.

Worst Case Scenario.

One Of Them Pulls The Seat Forward And Finds Me.

"_Ahhh…Look At You_," One Of Them Coos.

"_You're All Shaken Up, Aren't You?_"

This Is It, It's All Or Nothing.

I Reappear, Out Of The Vehicle, And Infront Of Them, And Break Into Mad-Sprint.

I Can't Help It, One's Just Too Fast, And He Pins Me To The Ground, Slapping A Thick

Set Of Metal Handcuffs Around My Wrists, I Reappear Away Again And Keep Running,

Unfortunately, That Doesn't Quite Keep Handcuffs Off My Wrists.

He Wrestles Me Back To His Partner, Once He Catches Me Again.

"_Watch Him, He's A Rather Unique Fellow…_" The Exhausted Man Points Out.

"_I See; Millennium's Going To Want Him Back; Call In For A Prisoner Exchange."_

"_Don't Rough Him Up."_

Hours Pass.

I Count Pebbles In The Gravel As The Captors Count My Every Move.

Perfectionists Like The Doctor.

For Once, I Would Mind Being Locked In The Doctor's Sterile Rooms Doing Tests.

Suddenly, Bootsteps In The Distance Catch My Ears, And They Perk To Focus In On Them.

I Look Up, Hopefully.

I'm Safe.

I'm Invincible Now.

I'm Practically Already In The Doctor's Quarters.

It's The Captain.

His Long Trenchcoat Flapping Through The Wind,

His Hat Masking The Half Of His Face That The Coat Doesn't.

His Unyielding Stride Only Ends As The Captors Open Fire.

I Can Hear The Bullets Exit Him, And As They Pass The Gun's Barrel,

But He Merely Starts Pacing Towards Them Again,

As If To Say, _I Don't Have To Hurry, I Already Have You._

They Make The Last-Ditch Effort To Kill Him.

They Draw Their Knives And Pistols And Leap At Him.

I Can Hear Them Ravaging The Captain.

Then, The Very Thing That Makes This Day Memorable Happens.

The Captain Lobs One Of Them From Him, Then The Other.

The Most Primal Look Of Hatred Crawls Onto His Face,

Seeping Into His Calm-Sculpted Face, Making His Stare Almost Blasphemous.

He Bares His Teeth As If He Were Satan Himself.

Matted Fur Sprouts From His Body, And He Leaps At Them, Like They Did Him, Unarmed.

I Watch In Morbid Fascination And Horror As He Rends Them Apart.

Bringing Handful After Handful Of Dark, Vital Blood Onto The Gravel.

His Teeth Close Down One One's Shoulder, And I Hear It's Bone's Snap As He Bites.

His Teeth.

They Look Like The Scalpels The Doctor Uses To Tear Apart Experiments; Blood-Soaked And All.

He Caught Glimpse At My Horrified Expression, And Looked Down At Himself Ashamed.

He Left Me With The Scent Of Blood Rising Off Body-Heat And The Hollow Whistling Of The Empty Skies.

That's The Last Thing I Remember Of That Night; The Captain, And His Mouthful Of Scalpels.

The Wind Hitched.

I Would Make It To Schwartzchild; I Walked At The Side Of The Road, My Mind Vacant, And My Expression Empty.

I Was Too Transfixed By What I'd Seen To Do Any More Than Walk.


	8. Lock And Key

_ After A Day Spent Feeling Sorry For Myself,_

_And A Night Wasted Eating Wasabi-Peas, With Dr. Pepper,_

_I Have This To Offer You._

* * *

It'd Been A Pretty Long Time. 

I Don't Know Exactly How Many Hour's I'd Spent Riding In The Car,

And I Don't Know How Long I'd Been Stumbling Forward Alongside The Road,

Taking Small Steps In The Opposite Direction Of Blood-Spattered Gravel, And Wreckage.

I'm Not A Clock.

All I Know Is It Was Dark. Deep Dark.

That Kind Of Dark You See Just Before Morning When

The Only People You Meet Are Either Asleep, Or Soaked In Coffee Or Liquor.

It Had Been That Long.

That Long To End Up Here, Stumbling In The Dark Infront Of Schwartzchild.

My Boots Scuffed Noisily At The Ground; Part Of Me Begged For Them To Notice Me,

And The Other Part Told Me To Stop, In Fear Of Them Doing So With The Wrong Intentions.

My Mind Was In No Condition To War With Itself.

I Continued Dragging My Steps, Snapping Bored Forms Into Action With My Shoes.

Panic-Angered Soldiers Threw Down A Spotlight At Me From The Camp's Towers.

"_Purpose?_" One Of Them Bark Down From Them.

But I'm As Quiet As The Captain.

I Stare Emptily Into The Bright Halo Of The Lightbulb.

They Whisper Noisily When They Know Notice Who I Am,

And The Gates Grind, Equally Loud As The Whispers As They Slide Open.

I Walked Quietly Into The Center-Building.

They're All Nondescript, And Solid-Colors,

But The Center-Building, With It's Door Pointing Arrow-Straight

Out Towards The Gate Seemed Obvious At The Time, Thought I Don't Know Why.

Part Of Me Just Knew The Doctor Was There, Eagerly Pacing Back And Forth.

I Pushed The Door Open, And Instantly, A Head Looked Up From Over A Desk.

A Man That Looked Somewhat Important, Sorting Files Into Flimsy Drawers.

"Doctor?" I Ask Him Quietly.

He Straightens His Desk-Bent Arm Towards The Left,

"He's _Waiting_ For You," He Speaks, Gravely.

I Walk Off Until I Reach A Heavy Door, Like One To A Meat-Freezer.

It Always Smells Sterile Around The Doctor, And The Scent Seeps From It.

I Push The Door Open.

He's Not At All How I'd Expected Him; Worried, Fatherly, Weeping Over His Missing Creation.

He Sat Casually At A Desk, Like The Man In The Front, Toying With A Wire Doll Of A Person.

"Ah, Schrodinger!" He Welcomes, As If It's Nothing Special That I'm Standing Here.

"You're Very Late On Your Tests, Aren't You?"

He Eyes Me Over Behind His Buggish Spectacles, Until He Notices Something Missing.

"Where Is Your Escort?"

I Took A Deep Sigh.

This Is Going To Sound Absolutely Insane.

"_Down The Road_," I Whisper.

The Doctor Nods Thoughtfully, "Yes?"

"There's Some Corpses, And He's One Of Them."

I Don't Know Why, But I Felt Oddly Sad For The Escort.

He Was Just A Quietly, Little, Shabby Man Doing His Job,

Driving Somebody To A Camp Down A Road, For Reasons He Didn't Quite Know.

My Heart Sank As I Recalled His Face, Twisted In Agony Before He Fell Silent Again.

"Did _You_ Do It?" The Doctor Eyes Me Coldly.

"_No!_" I Cried Out.

I Franticly Tried To Avoid Looking The Man In The Eyes,

The Aura Of Domination That Followed The Major Seemed To Ebb Off Him,

And I Couldn't Do It; I Couldn't Stare Into That Fly's Stare Of His.

Then I Saw Something.

One Of His Bloodied Scalpels Lying On A Dissection Table.

It All Flooded Back To Me.

The Captain.

"The Captain," I Whispered Fearfully.

The Doctor's Stare Softened And He Stood Up Dismissively.

"He's A Work Of Art, Isn't He?" The Doctor Interrupted.

"No, He's…!"

"Destruction At It's Finest.", The Doctor Whispered, Like A Child Telling Secrets.

"You Know About," I Swallowed Hard,

"What He _Did_, Then?"

The Doctor Smiled That Mad Man's Smile The Major Wears Like A Mask,

"Of Course! We _Sent_ Him."

The Smile Broadened, "I Have Eyes, Everywhere."

He Said, Pointing Up At His Deformed Goggles.

I Looked Away Again, Down At The Doll He'd Been Toying With,

It's Limbs Misshapen Into Unobtainable Forms.

I Let Out An Almost-Relieving Sigh.

"May I Have Your Permission To Leave Back To Headquarters?"

I Pleaded With Him With All My Being For Some Kind Of Mercy After Seeing What I Did.

"Name Your Reasons," The Doctor Replied Impatiently.

That Same Sigh Worked It's Way Past My Lips.

"I'm Really, Really Just A Little…"

"Shaken?" The Doctor Interrupted Again.

I Looked Up In Disbelief At The Fact He'd Know What I Was Going To Say.

The Doctor Straightened A Stack Of Over-Detailed Notes, And Sighed.

"I Suppose You Won't Be At Your Best, Having Seen…"

The Doctor Sipped At A Cup Resting On A Yellowed Napkin At His Side.

"…What The Captain Does."

He Grinned Evilly, Like He Knew Everything, Like I Was Trapped.

"However, I'd Like You To Go With Him."

I Looked Up In Terror, He Leered Into My Eyes.

"I Don't Want To Go Through The Trouble Of Sending Him If Something Goes Awry."

I Glanced Back And Forth From The Scalpel To The Doctor, There Was No Salvation In Either.

"I Wouldn't Want To _Lose_ You," He Cooed,

He Was Coiled Like A Serpent Around His Treasure Of Revenge For My Constant Lash Outs At Him.

"You _Are_ Valuable,"

I Didn't Sleep.

I Was Exhausted, But I Couldn't Bring Myself To Close My Eyes.

I Was Packed Onto A Car Going Back The Way To The Trainstations.

As Quickly As I'd Gotten Into Camp, I'd Left,

And The Terror That Had Drove Me There Was Beside Me.

Had I Sought _Comfort_ In The Arms Of _Him_?

I Mustered The Courage To Look Up At Him.

I Had Expected His Sculpted Mask Of Indifference, The One He Usually Wears,

But It Seems All My Expectations Are Being Dashed Away Today.

He Wears That Mask; It's To Be Sure.

I Had Started To Think That The Captain Had Forsaken Emotion, Along With His Voice,

And As Of Last Night, His Humanity, But His Mask Fought A Losing Battle To Hide A

Deep, But Restrained Guilt At Knowing What He'd Shown Me.

I Understood His Sadness.

He'd Trusted Me With A Secret;

A Terrible Beast That He'd Masked Away, Like His Voice And Emotions.

And I?

I'd Turned Him Away.

The Same Person Who Fondly Spent His Evenings With Him

Was Now Cowering Away From Him, Horrified At His Existence.

"_I'm Sorry._" I Admit, My Words Steeped In My Own Guilt.

The Driver Turns, Slightly, "What's That?"

I Hang My Head, "Nothing."

The Captain Merely Looks Ahead To The Transits,

His Gaze Now As Empty As His Emotions,

His Face Coifed Back Into That Mask He Shows The World.


	9. In Motion

_This Chapter Has Been Shortened, And I'm Not Content With It._

_Thank My Father For Cutting My Time To Write It Dangerously Short,_

_As He's Making Me Get Up Around 7:00 AM For Laughs, I Assume._

_Forgive It For Being Dry, And Notice The Cute Schro/Rip Scene At The End._

_Sorry, I Couldn't Resist The Idea, It Seemed Cute._

* * *

It Was A Long, Uneventful, And Silent Drive Back To The Stations. 

I Don't Think A Single Word Was Spoken, After The Captain Turned Away.

I Simply Sank My Head Into My Hands, And That's How I Stayed,

My Head Bobbing With Smoothness Of The Road.

Seconds Vanished,

Minutes Ticked By Like Seconds,

And Hours Passed Like Minutes.

The Car Slowed, As The Bright Lights Of The Transits Danced

Through The Air, Like Spotlights Hunting Down Some Imaginary Man In The Sky.

The Driver Hastily Exits, And Opens Our Doors.

I Can Honestly Say It's Tiring Having To Sit In The Same Old Cars,

With The Same Drivers, Doing The Same Routines Over And Over Again.

I Step Out, And Walk Quietly Behind The Captain's Footsteps

As We Walk Closer, And Closer To The Entrance Of The Trainstation.

The Place Smells Like Crude Oil Splashed Over In Candle-Scents.

It Always Does, It Did Even The Last Time I'd Been Here, With Rip,

Which Is Odd, Because Through The Loudspeakers, Where Departures Are Occasionally Barked Out For Frantic Passengers To Rush To Catch, Rip's Opera Hummed Through.

I Don't Know Why, But Something About That Made Me Smile.

The Captain Looked Down Suspiciously At Me, I Looked Back Up Sheepishly.

He Molded Himself Back Into Indifference, As We Slid Our

Yellow Tickets To The Man Behind The Booth, Who Pointed Us To Our Train.

The Train Was Nice, Though I Couldn't Enjoy It.

Like The Last Time, The Same Nice Women Paced The Isles, Offering Food Or Drink,

And Like The Last Time, I Always Politely Declined.

Trains Were Becoming Routine, It Seemed.

I Sat Slumped Across From The Captain.

This Seating Was Terrible, Thanks To It, I Had One Of Two Choices,

Facing Him, Forced To Look Into His Hollow Gaze, Or To Sit Next To Him

And Feel Full Force Of His Cold Shoulder.

I Had Imagined The Other, And It Didn't Seem Any Better.

I Slid My Hand Across The Table And Let My Hand Rest Over His.

I Didn't Want To Repeat The Same Apology He'd Heard One-Thousand Times Over,

But, I Didn't Want Him To Ignore Me, Or Assume I'd Hated Him.

I'd Let My Actions Leave It Unspoken.

Time Ticked Away, Until We Had Arrived,

And The Captain Seemed None The Better,

Or, At Least, Not By Much More Than A Little, In Spirits.

The Rest Was Routine.

Same Old Waiting.

Same Old Escort.

Same Old Opening Of Doors,

To Enter Same Old Headquarters,

And Unpack In Same Old Room.

I'd Quietly Walked Into My Room,

And The Captain'd Vanished Into His.

I Still Had A Lot Of Time To Waste.

Unpacking Was A Simple Chore For Me;

Sliding Folded Uniforms Back Into Drawer, And Kicking The Case Under My Bed.

And I'd Already Spent The Day With The Captain,

Who Now Seemed To Disdain My Company.

I Stepped Out From Behind My Door To Hear The Opera From The Trainstation Playing.

It's Good To See Rip Has Beaten Us Here.

I Smile Again, I Don't Know What It Is About That Tune, But It Brings The Best Out Of Me,

Even If I'm About To Walk The Flight Of Stairs Down To Hell, I'd Smile To It.

Which, Oddly Enough, I'm About To Do.

Today's Full Of Coincidence.

I Walk The Stairs Down To The Main Lobby; The One Full Of Drunken Soldiers And Gamblers.

The Same Two Soldiers Two Mocked Me When I'd Gone To Visit The Captain So Long Ago

Beckon Me Over For A Game Of Cards, And For Once,

I Welcome The Sound Of Worn Cards And Beer-Glasses Clinking Around In The Air.

I Leer Over Them, Menacingly.

I Throw Down A Fistful Of Money, And Try My Luck.

Not A Good Decision.

To Be Honest, I'm Not All That Skilled Of A Gambler.

Some Men Are Just Born To Tempt Luck.

Me? I'm Broke Now.

All The Money I Had To Spare Is Now Amounts To An Empty Pocket.

I Frowned, I'm Actually Very Embarrassed.

I Mock-Salute Their Mocking Tones And Go Back Upstairs

With An Odd Feeling Of Exhilaration And Loss; That Buzz You Get When You Fail Miserably.

I Think It Stems From The Idea Of Hoping To Lay Down That One Winning Hand.

I Whisk Away My Idle Thoughts Like Smoke Off A Cigarette

When A Welcome Sound Greets My Ears.

Opera.

I Slip Into Rip's Room, And Flop Lazily Down On Her Bed.

"Good Evening", I Practically Sigh.

"You Didn't Knock", She Points Out.

"Sorry."

Suddenly, She Stops Whatever She'd Been Doing.

"It's Not Like You To Apologize,"

She Slumps Next To Me, Like I Do The Captain.

"What's Wrong?"

I Pretend To Not Hear The Question.

"Schrodinger?"

I Sigh; I'd Been Called Out.

"Rip?"

She Turns, So I Know She Is Listening.

"How Do You Let Someone Know You Love Them?"

I Try To Ask Innocently Enough, To Keep Everything A Secret.

To Keep Things Masked, Like The Captain.

Her Tone Changes, And A Sly Smile Crosses Her Lips.

"Hmm…" She Thinks, Contently.

"Why Not Talk, Maybe Some Affectionate Compliments,"

She Turns To Me Again, Smiling,

"See How It Goes From There?"

She Looks Flustered, Yet Oddly Let Down As I Thank Her,

And Rush Out Of The Room.


	10. Finesthour

_I Had To Keep Things Rather Clean, And Almost-Vague. _

_But, You Should Be Able To Piece Things Together, Like Reading The Lips Of A Person Being Censored. _

_I Hope You Enjoy It, And Sorry, Yet Again, I Was Kind Of Cut Short. _

* * *

It Wasn't Long Before I Slept. 

I Didn't Really Have Anything Holding Me Back, Save For Excitement,

Excitement That Tomorrow, I'd Be The Captain's Favorite Again.

However, The Things That Usually Pressed Sleep Away From Me: Noise, Restlessness

They Were All Gone.

I Slept Easily With A Mind Steeped In Happiness Over Rip's Advice.

I Had Imagined It.

I Would Casually Open The Door, Throw My Arms Around Him In Unrealistic Passion,

And Pour Everything That Drew Me To Him In The First Place Into His Ears.

Then, He Forgives Me, And Quietly Strokes My Ears, And I Sleep At His Side, Like Old Times.

Somewhere Between My Freshly-Lit Imagination And Rip's Advice, I Fell Asleep.

I Dreamt Happily Of The Day To Come.

I Awoke Just As Excited As I'd Slept.

With The Vigor Of A Person Living Their Last Days, I'd Pried Myself From My Pillow,

Showered, And Slipped Into My Best-Ironed Uniform.

Today Was The Day; The Day I'd Wow Myself Back Into His Heart.

But, I Was Missing Something.

I Searched Frantically, Until I'd Found A Tiny Glass Flask Beneath All My Clothes.

A Bottle Of Cologne I'd Won In My First Card Game.

I Remember Asking The Soldier What Made It Worth Betting,

And His Crude Replies About Attraction And Allure.

It Had A Thin, Drifting Aroma, With A Clean, Woodlike Scent.

I Dabbed It On, And Raced Back To The Mirror To Make Sure My Hair Looked Nice.

It Had To Be Perfect.

Everything Did.

I'd Shined Up My Buttons, And Straighten My Tie.

And Passed Rip Through The Hallways, With A Smile.

I Have To Smile, I Have To Be Proud, I Have To Be As Perfect As My Clothes.

Then, A Raincloud Formed Over My Entire Parade.

"Good Morning Schrodinger; Or Should I Say, Good Afternoon?"

The Familiar, Eccentric, Scholarly Tones Of The Doctor.

"You've Slept _Quite_ A Long Time!"

I Tried To Explain To Him That I Was In A Bit Of A Rush, But To No Real Avail.

He Adjusted His Glasses, And Tipped Them Over The Brim Of His Nose,

"Now That You've Had A Moment To Mellow Out Your Head, I Trust You're Ready To Test?"

I Followed Him, Defeated.

I'd Given Him My Word I'd Come, But Now,

The Person I'd Fled From, And The Person I Was In A Rush To Greet Were The Same.

He Always Gets The Better End Of Any Of Our Promises.

He's Always In A Better Position, It Seems.

I Sat There In The Sterile Stink Of His Office, Making Quick Calculations,

And Read Short Clippings Of Books, While He Timed, And Documented Everything.

A Perfectionist At Heart, The Doctor Is.

I'm Sure The Clipboard He's Writing On Is Packed To The Margin Each Task I Finish.

I Don't Know How Long Passes, When The Doctor Peers Contently At The Clipboard Below Him.

"Still Novice's Work…" He Mutters, Somewhat Dissapointed,

He Shows Me An Odd, Toothy Smile.

"But, Very Good, And Improved."

The Doctor Set The Clipboard At His Desk, And Shoos Me To The Door.

I'm Worried, Now.

Did My Hair Fall Out Of Place?

Is Everything Still Perfect?

I Rush Back Into My Room, And Check.

I Straighten Out A Little Bit Of My Hair,

Flash A Quick Smile To The Mirror, And Straighten My Tie.

Perfect.

I Dab A Little Bit More Of The Already-Fading Cologne Back On.

I Slip Past My Door, And Into The Captain's.

He Is How He Usually Is; Reserved, Spending His Spare Time Pouring Past Books.

The Captain Sometimes Makes Me Laugh; For Someone Who Never Utters A Word,

He Cares Very Much What Long-Dead Men Had To Say In Their Works.

I Replay The Dream Over, And Over, And Over Again In My Mind,

But My Mind Knows I Cannot Be As Extravagant As I Was.

I Wrap My Arms Over Him Shakily, Already Doubting Myself.

The Word '_Perfect_' Somehow Died With My Confidence As I Passed His Door.

"I…" I Begin,

I Can Already Feel My Head Sink.

"I Really Should Have Thanked You."

I Was Hardly Able To Sound The Words Back My Knotted Throat.

He Looked, Well, Very Taken Back.

The Most Astonished I've Seen A Person Without Changing Faces.

It Was One Of The Few Things The Captain Had Trouble Masking.

He Looks Questioningly At Me As The Tail Of Wood-Scent Cologne

Dances Past His Nose, And I Can Tell What He's Curious About.

I Hang My Head Again,

I Know I'm Failing.

It's Like Counting The Doctor's Impatient Sighs As I Test.

It's Nothing Like The Dream Convinced Me It'd Be Like.

He's Not Blown Away, And I've Crumbled.

He Cups My Chin, And Lifts My Gaze Into His,

Still Peering With That Interrogating-Look Into Me.

"_I Wanted To Be Perfect…_" I Admitted, Guiltily.

I Had To Admit It, Because I'd Failed, And Now,

I Could Tell I Had, By The Confused Looks Of The Captain At Me.

"_For You._" I Confessed.

His Confusion Ebbs Away, And He Smiles Sadly At Me.

He's Almost Apologetic, And Presses His Lips To My Forehead.

I Remember My Regrets About The Last Time I'd Come This Close With The Captain.

The Regrets That I Hadn't Done Anything.

I'd Simply Stayed Like I'd Started This Time, Defeated, And Nervous.

Not This Time, I Wouldn't Spend Any Time Dreaming What It'd Be Like,

Had I Only Had The Courage To Act On My Feelings,

I Couldn't Spend Another Day At A Different Camp, Begging Fate That He Was Thinking Of Me, Too.

I Pull My Hands From His Back, And Crane Myself To Him, From His Shoulders.

I Uneasily Bring My Lips To His.

Never Again Would I Question Myself As To Why I Hadn't Done That.

He Returns It, No Longer The Chaste Kiss We'd Nervously Shared So Long Ago,

And I Can Feel My Face Burn As He Does.

Each Kiss Is Like Lighting Fireworks; They Burn Passionately, Then Sputter Out As Another Comes.

I Feel His Fingers Beneath Me, Deftly Working To Undo My Meticulously Straightened Buttons,

And I Feel Swept Away When I Realize What Exactly He's Doing.

But, I Don't Want To Stop Him.

I'm Nervous, And Excited, And Terrified, But I Inwardly Beg For Him To Continue.

I Slip Out From Beneath My Jacket's Sleeves, And Pull Myself Back To Him,

I Need That Firework's Burn, That Excitement, From Him.

He Tugs, Frustrated At My Tie, Until It's Strewed On His Bed With My Jacket.

I Kick Off My Newly-Polished Boots.

I Work Up The Courage To Reach Up, And Slowly Undo His Coat.

He's A Master Of Concentration.

I Can Feel His Fingers Burn Chills Beneath My Undershirt, Unerring As I Work At Him.

The Captain Stops My Hands, And Hastily Unfastens All His Buttons, Tossing His Trenchcoat Aside, As He Works On His Uniform Just As Quickly.

His Hat Falls To The Floor With An Idle _Clop_.

He Peels Away His Shirt, Finally, And I Do The Same.

He's Very Strong, Strong In A Subtle, Commanding Way, But Strong Nonetheless.

His Eyes Trace My Thin Form As A Toned-Down Smile Crosses His Lips.

I Feel The Heat Of His Breath Race Down My Neck As He Holds Me Closer To Him Than Ever Before, And The Chill Of His Fingers, Caressing My Side.

I Wasn't Able To Move. He'd Blown Me Away.

I'd Come To Amaze Him, And He'd Turned The Tables.

We Stayed Like That For What Seemed Like Ages, Until He Moves Again.

I'm Inwardly Screaming.

He Fumbles With The Button At My Waist.

I Look To The Side, My Face Burning As He Drags Away The Last Of My Uniform,

Gazing Down At Me; Reluctant, Exposed And Sprawled Across His Bed.

The Rest Of It Left Me Whimpering In My Inexperience.

I Remember The Sinking Feeling Of The Captain,

I Remember Grasping Helplessly For His Shoulders Like An Infant.

I Remember The Tender Ache Of Tearing Muscle,

And I Remember The Captain's Gentle Stroking At My Ears,

As We Both Lay Exhausted, Sticky With Sweat, Half-Covered With Sheets,

And Yet, Somehow, We'd Managed To Remain Quiet Enough To Wake No One.

I Slept There, Full-Knowingly Aware Of The Man I Was Next To,

Of The Terror He Could Become, But Also Of The Love We'd Shared.

He Was My Unholy Savior, My Beautiful Savage,

And I Wouldn't Love Him Any Other Way.


	11. Faust

'_Hair From The Dog That Bit Me_' Is A Line Used In Bars Where One Is Up The Next Morning, Drinking The Same Thing That Left Them Hungover.

I Used That Line, And I Thought I'd Clear That Up For Those Who Don't Know.

* * *

It's Quiet. 

It's Always Quiet.

Well, At Least It Always Is When It's This Early.

I Turn My Head, Half Awake To The Morning Window.

A Rain-Sodden Sky The Color Of Wet Plaster, And A Thin Halo Of Sun.

I Turn Away, And Into The Captain's Warmth, I Can't Stay There Long.

I Can't Afford To Stay In Here.

Should Someone Come In For Any Reason At All, They'd Find Me Like This.

Half-Undressed, Soaked In Last Night's Events, In The Captain's Bed.

No Matter How Skilled The Lie, You Can't Worm Yourself Out Of That Situation.

You Could Have The Tongue Of Lucifer Himself, And You Still Couldn't.

I Sigh, As I Inch Away From The Captain's Sleep-Calmed Face,

Sliding His Limp Arms Away From Me, And Easing Myself Onto His Floor With Catlike Grace.

There Isn't Even A Sound As My Footsteps Lead Me Out With a Quiet _Click _As His Door Shuts

The Cologne Masks The Scent Of Sweat On Me, As I Slip Back Into My Quarters.

I Gaze At The Ceiling, Until I Drift Back Into Sleep.

It Doesn't Last Long.

A Handful Of Hours Later, I Find Myself Staring Up, Again.

Wide Awake, But Still Exhausted.

You Could Call It A Hangover Of Sorts.

My Body Aches From The Captain, And His Affections,

And My Mind Numbed Off The Idea Of Them.

Sore, With My Mind Still On Cloud-Nine.

I Slip Into My Shower.

I Need To Strip Myself Of Last Night.

Cologne Only Masks So Much;

It Can't Hide Tear Streaks, Messy Hair, And Tired Eyes From A Night Spent Awake.

Hot Water Strikes Them All Out, You're Left Awake And A Little Purer Than You'd Entered,

Hot Water Still Can't Quite Strip Away Sin.

I Pull Back The Sliding Glass, And Look At Myself In The Fogged Mirror.

I Still Look A Little Tired, But Who's To Say I'm Not?

I Don't Dry Off.

I Don't Even Bother Getting A Towel.

I Walk Dully To My Dresser And Grab A Uniform,

Usually, I Try To Get The Nicest One In The Drawer, But This Time, I Don't Care.

I Dress Up For The Day With No One To Impress.

I Take The Routine To A Close, And Leave My Room.

Rip Steps Up From Downstairs; The Bar Already Lined With People Looking For Hair From The Dog That Bit Them.

She's Dressed In Her Typical Way, Always Proper And Straight, Glasses Tilted Down Her Nose.

She Eyes Me Oddly, And Fumbles Around, Proffering A Book.

"Good Morning," She Chirps, In Seemingly High Spirits.

She Drops The Book Into My Hands, And I Recognize It As '_Faust_'.

"You Might Need This," She Dots The Sentence With A Mischievous Wink.

"Meeting." She Says, In Mock Graveness.

I Tuck The Book Into My Pocket, Like I Did Last Time.

"Thank You," I Murmur.

We Walk The Halls Down To The Meeting Room, In Close Step.

"A Little Off Today?" She Questions.

"No, Tired." I Assure.

"_Hmmmmm..._" She Sighs, A Little Discontent.

"You Forgot Your Tie."

I Look Down At My Shirt, Where The Tie Should Be Neatly Tucked,

Only To Find A 'V' Where My Neck Meets My Clothing, And An Endless Trail Of Buttons.

"That's Disappointing; You Always Look Nice With Them On," She Nudges Me Playfully,

"They Make You Look A Little..."

"Classier?" I Cut In.

"_Nicer._" She Finishes.

I Sit Dutifully In My Seat, Paging Through The Exploits Of Doctor Faust, Half-Bored.

"Schrodinger?"

I Don't Bother To Look Up, Pretending To Have Not Heard My Name As I Finish Another Page.

"_Schrodinger._" The Major Calls.

I Look Up, My Eyes Wide, And My Posture Straight As If I Were At Attention.

"Yes?"

The Major's Piggish Cheeks Widen As His Madman's Smile Shines.

"We Would Like To Hear Your Details On The Recent _Attempt_ On Your Life."

He Lilts '_Attempt_' To Mark Another Victory On Millennium's Part.

I Sing For Him.

I Answer Every Question Meekly,

Spilling Any And All Details I Know Onto The Pages Of Some Non-Existent Book For Him.

In The End Of It All, He Nods Solemnly, As If He Is Deeply Interested.

"And It Wasn't An 'Attempt On My Life'." I Correct.

He Looks Up, A Little Annoyed At My Correction.

"They Wanted To Do Some Kind Of A Trade Off, I Believe."

The Major Sighs, As If He Is Speaking To A Child.

"We _Know_. How Do You Think We _Found_ You?"

I Don't Speak.

I Could Argue, But The Seething Hatred, That Hidden Insanity.

That's Not Something I'd Like A Closer Peek At.

It's Not To Say It Doesn't Irk Me, Though.

'_We_'

As If He Were On The Scene, With A Gun Ready.

If I Remember Correctly, It Was The Captain Who Saved Me.

I Read A Bit More Of '_Faust_' Before The Major Bellows Out In His Extravagant Voice, That We May Leave.

I Walk With Rip Through The Winding Halls, Making More Idle Chat As Our Boots Squeak Down The Tiles.

"You Should Watch Yourself Around The Major." She Scolds.

I Slip Faust Back Into Her Pockets.

We Walk Like That For Awhile, Silent Until We Near The Stairs.

"Thank You For The Book," I Yawn,

"I'm Going To Leave Now."

"Okay," She Smiles, In Odd Contrast To Her Warnings To Not Anger The Major.

"Next Time," She Pokes At My Neck With A Trimmed Nail,

"You Should Wear Your Tie."

I Laugh,

She Laughs,

And We Part Ways.


	12. Sin

_Yet Again, I'm Not 100 Happy With This Chapter._

_I Wrote It When I Was Half-Awake, And Very Depressed._

_I Dedicate This Chapter To Kimberly Brown And Donald Shannon._

_Good Luck With College, Kim, And May God Be At Your Wings, Donnie. _

* * *

I Walked Away From Rip With A Headful Of Odd Ideas. 

I Don't Know What Yet, But There's Something There, Something She's Leaving Me.

Leading Me With A Trail Of Breadcrumbs To Some Greater Point.

I Don't Even Have The Time To Sit And Think.

I Never Do.

That's The Kind Of Time You Have When You're Sleeping.

There's No Room For More Than A Handful Of Minds In This Place.

There's One That Oversees Everything, The Maestro Of Our Hellish Orchestra

The Major.

The Other Is A Man I Have Come To Distaste, My Proverbial Father, The Brilliant Madman

The Doctor.

Those Two Are The Only People Who Need Minds Here.

The Rest Of Us Are Merely Pawns In Their Games.

Disposable Help.

Notes In Their Symphony Of War And Death.

It's A Rather Morbid Thought, But More Or Less, I've Learned To Accept It As It Comes.

I Run Headlong Into One Of The Men With Minds Here.

I Have Come Crashing Into The Doctor.

His Files And Papers Land With A Heavy Smack As They Hit The Floor.

I Glanced Down Worriedly At Them; I'd Expected A Crescendo Of Anger, And A Flurry Of Paper,

But The Folders Just Drop, The Papers Stay Pack Together In Their Masses.

I Quickly Reclaim Them From The Floor, And Slide Them Back Between His Even-Digits.

His Eyes Are Half-Lidded In Exhaustion, And His Voice Calm, And Scholarly.

"Schrodinger."

For A Minute, It Actually Seemed Like He Was A Loving Person The Way He Said My Name.

"I'd Like To Speak With You, In My Office. Please."

His Voice Is Beautifully Dead-Pan, And I Follow Him, Knowing We Won't Be Ending In An Argument.

I Walk Behind Him Into His Sterile Little Room.

I Should Have Figured I'd Be Back Here Again, The Doctor Can Only Stand Boredom So Long.

He Reclines Back Into His Chair With A Weary Sigh.

"I'd Like To Ask You Some Things."

He Does A Great Job At Making Things Seem Standard-Procedure.

"I _Need_ To Ask You Them, To Know How You've _Matured_."

He Acts Like I Have The Option To Say '_No_.' To His Offer, And Leave.

The Doctor Folds Back A Few Sheets Of Paper On His Clipboard, And Grabs A Pen,

Scribbling A Few Moments To Get The Ink To Work.

"Have You Been Experiencing An Increased Interest In Arts?"

I Recall Reading Bits Of '_Faust_' And Sleeping To Rip's Opera.

"_Yes._"

It Was All Like That.

A Good Thirty Minutes Or So Of 'Yes', And 'No', Until The Doctor Stares Contently At Ink-Spattered Paper, And Thanks Me, Leaving Off To To God Knows What With Such Trivial Information.

It Doesn't Matter.

I Don't Really Care.

I Push Past His Heavy Door With A Grunt Of Apathy, And Head Into The Captain's Room.

The Captain Is Invaluable To Me On Days Like This, When I've Started To Feel A Little Tired With Things.

He Listens Unwavering To Me As I Rant About Who I Hate, And Who I Don't.

Or, Perhaps, He Merely Tunes Me Out And Leaves Me In That Illusion, But I'm Content With Both.

I Stop Mid-Complaint, And Walk Over To Him, Who Is Still Ever-Seated At His Desk.

His Chair Groans As I Slide It Forward, And Ease Myself Into His Lap.

"_I'm Tired Of Things Here._" I Finish.

He Sighs, Like He Understands, And Combs His Hands Over My Ears.

I Wanted To Be Numb.

To Be Out Of My Skin For Awhile.

To Be Out Of Here.

I Coo Softly Into His Ear, But He's Not Interested At The Moment.

He Sets A Stern Hand Of '_Stop, Please_' Onto My Chest.

I Leave, Frustrated, Still.

I Know Why Those Men Downstairs Drown Themselves In Their Empty Pockets Full Of Liquor.

Its Life's Novocain.

Morphine For Your Troubles, And Issues.

A Means Of Procrastination For Whatever Ruins You.

I Admit Guiltily To Myself That I'm Going To Try It, To Drown Out Whatever Made Me A Little Bitter Today.

I Have To Keep Conscious, Though.

I Can't Become The Mindless, Drooling Fools I Can Here Zorin Avidly Riling Up Down There.

I Sigh, A Little Disappointed In Myself For Not Facing Things.

I Don't Want To, Though. I'm Tired, Angry, And Left Vying For The Affection The Captain Offers Me.

I Confirm To Myself That I'm Actually Going Down There.

I Brace Myself, And Walk The Halls Down.

I Just Keep Bumping Into People.

First The Doctor, Now Rip.

I Apologize.

She Smooths Out Her Outfit, And Helps Me To My Feet.

"It's Okay. It's Okay."

I Don't Know What Stops Me From Mentally Grumbling At Her,

And Seconds Later, We're Swept Away, Sharing Drinks Downstairs.

Zorin.

She Looks A Little Bitter, Now That I'm There With Rip.

She Has At Least A Reputation With Rip, One She Can't Ruin By Humiliating Me At The Moment.

I Don't Even Remember What We Drank, Something Thick And Burning, With A Little Water.

We Chatted Happily About Operas, And People Who Irk Us.

I Think I Was Making The Best Of Things; Searching For A Warm Place In A Cold Bit Of Life.

I Felt A Little Guilty; Sharing Drinks Is Something You Usually See Couples Do In Movies,

And My Thoughts Wandered To The Captain, Pouring Half-Heartedly Over His Desk.

Rip's Voice Slapped Me Back Into The Present.

"I've Got Something A _Little_ Personal To Tell You,"

She Puts A Spin On Little So It's Almost Bragging About How Big Her Secret Is.

And, Steeled With Liquid Courage, She Let's It Slip.

"I Really Like You."

I Lost Myself That Night.

I Became On Of Those Drunk Fools Parading About In The Bar.

I Didn't Know What To Say, Except To Keep Saying I Felt The Same Way,

And Moments Later, I Found Myself Fawning Over Her.

Then It All Clicked.

The Tie, The Time We Spent At Camp, All The Seemingly Pointless Gestures Became Important.

She Had Her Eyes On Me First.

Love-Drunk, And Drunk All Around, We Took Uneasy Steps Upstairs, Tittering Like Schoolgirls All The Way.

Somewhere Between Those Drinks, And The Stairs, I Found Myself At The Bottom Of Her Bed.

The Conscious Side Of Me Took Over, And I Slipped Away.

"_I'm Sorry._" I Don't Know How Many Times I Slurred That To Her As I Left.

Nothing Had Happened.

Technically, I Was Still True To The Captain.

But, You Can't Convince Yourself Of These Things When You're Stressed, And Drunk.

I Sobbed To Myself On My Bed, My Eyes Stinging, And Throat Sore.

I Continued On Like That Until I Found Myself Back In My Own Bed, Asleep.

It Was A Day Like Most Others.

Rip Led Me Down With Her Copy Of Faust To The Meeting Room.

Something Was Missing, Though,

All The People, The Major, The Doctor, The Leaders And Grunts, They Were All Gone.

Suddenly, She Turned Away.

Such A Simple Gesture, And I Was Already In Chills.

She Throws The Book To The Ground, And The Pages Wither As They Burn.

She Walks Away, And I'm Left Standing There, Until The Familiar Squeak Of Boots Echoes

Through The Room, But The Silence Stays Mostly-Intact.

The Captain.

He Has His Face Masked, Coiffed Into Indifference.

A Pack Of Slavering Wolves Trail Him Like A Coattail As He Enters.

He Storms Up To Me, And I Look Away In My Shame.

He Says My Name, And I Open My Eyes, To Find Him As He Was The Day He Saved Me.

Primal.

Drowned In His Own Fury, With Savage Claws And His Scalpel-Mouth.

He Seizes Me In His Hand, And Lifts My Head To I Look Into His Eyes.

"_I Trusted You._" He Spits Bitterly.

"_Betrayer!_' Cries One Wolf.

"_Deceiver!_" Cheers Another.

He Grazes A Single Pinpoint Claw Down My Cheek, Threatening To Draw Blood.

"_My Confused Little Child, My Little Kitten Whore._"

I Wake Up Sweating And Guilty, With The Stink Of Alcohol Laced On My Breath.

I Run To The Captain, And Break Down Into His Arms, Repeating '_Sorry_' Endlessly,

While He Looks Down, Confused, With His Brow Furrowed At Me.


	13. Aim

_I Actually Got The Idea For This From A Person I Saw In Real Life.  
During A Seminar About Why We Should Join The ROTC (Which I Have Not.)  
There Was A Rifle-March Demonstration From This Girl In A Black Dress.  
There's No Way That Was Coincidence.  
As For All The Reference To Floods, I Had A Break-Down A Couple Days Ago,  
And I Kept Repeating Myself, And Crying. "I Can't Stop It, It's A Flood." I Said.  
I've Simply Found An Understanding And Incorporated It._

* * *

I Stayed There For Awhile, Apologizing Frantically Into The Captain's Chest. 

I Couldn't Stop, Part Of Me Was So Ashamed, And The Words Flooded Past Me.

I Sobbed The Four Syllables Until I Felt Sick, And Dizzied.

_I-Am-Sor-ry._

I Couldn't Explain Why To Him, But, I Didn't Really Want To Either.

I Sank My Head Down, And Clung To His Shoulders, As Not To Be Swept Away In My Own Flood.

The Captain Sighed The Kind Of Sigh That People Make When They Care And See You Crying.

The Kind Embroidered With A Mixture Of Pity, And Sadness Along With A Bit Of Resignation About It As Well.

The Captain's Hand Ambled Against My Back, The Soothing Touch Letting My Breath Come Back In Gasps.

I Tried To Speak As Soon As I Had Enough Breath To Do So.

"_You're Too Perfect._" I Hissed From Behind My Teeth, The Salt Of My Tears Burning Against My Face.

"_You're Too Forgiving._" I Tried To Gather Enough Breath For One More Self-Bittering Comment, But I Couldn't.

Not Because I Didn't Want To, Or Because I Was Too Preoccupied Trying To Calm Myself To Speak,

But Because The Captain Wouldn't Let Me, His Finger Sat Against My Lips In A Wordless Shush.

He Continued His Soothing Caresses, While I Silently Tried To Breathe.

The Captain Knows How To Handle Everything.

Hellsing. Iscariot. Millennium, And Everything In Between, Even Sobbing Lovers.

"_I Love You._"

I Felt Like Such A Liar, Like Such A Fake, Saying That.

The Majority Of My Morals Whispered '_Isn't That What You Told Rip?_'

It Actually Hurt To Say, My Lips Dry, And My Throat Burning From Irrational Apologies.

If I Had The Chance To Go Back, I'd Have Changed Those Into More Meaningful Words.

He Lets Another One Of Those Wistful Pity-and-Sadness Sighs Escape His Lips,

And Gently Presses His Lips To My Cheek.

I Stayed There, Despite The Fact That The Proverbial Flood Had Receded.

I Don't Know How Long Was Between That Kiss And The Moment Where I Shakily Got Onto My Feet And Left,

But I Know That It Seemed Like Forever, Until It Came To An End.

I Went Into My Shower, Not Because I Needed One, But Because I Know They're Relaxing,

And That They Can Usually Erase Those Telltale Streaks And Red Eyes That Are Left From A Good Cry.

They Still Can't Erase The Mental Exhaustion Or Anything,

But As I've Said Before, Hot Water Can Only Strip So Much.

I Was Kind Of Smart To Do That, By The Way.

Just The Time Spent A Little Less Confused Put The Books In The Hellish Library Called My Head Back In Order.

There Were Still A Few Bad Chapters And Missing Pages, But Everything Was Back In Order, At Least.

I Dried Off The Area Around My Ears Only, Hung The Towel Back Up, And, Still Wet, Buttoned Into Uniform.

There's A Rally Today.

It's Like The Major Can't Go A Week Without Speaking Him Mind And Orders To People,

Not That That's An Accusation I'd Ever Mention To His Face, But I Can Still Think It.

I Walk Quietly Down The Winding Hallways Beside The Captain, Exchanging Nervous Glances With Rip,

Who Trails A Few Feet Behind Zorin, Her Gun Propped Up In Marching-Style On A Shoulder.

I Keep Silently Praying She Doesn't Mention Anything About Last Night Around The Captain.

We Lock Eyes For A Moment, Before She Sweeps Her Hair Back A Little, And Turns Away.

I Don't Have '_Faust_' Today, It'd Be Rude, After Practically Standing Someone Up, To Ask Them For Things.

It's Going To Be A Long Meeting, And I've Got Nothing To Do But Steep In My Own Nervousness.

I Sat Uneasily Down, Far In The Back Of My Seat As The Major Took The Stand.

He Told Us Of He's Goals, And Achievements, And Of The Glory Of War.

He Told Us Of The Harrowing Situations Undergone By Our Enemies,

And Of The Greatest Moments He's Ever Cherished.

All A Cover-Up For One Central Point.

"_All Of You!_" He Cried, His Voice Ringing Out In Almost Religious Tones.

"_You Must Train, Must Be At The Top, Must Be Pushed Past Your Limits!_"

Zorin, And Her Drunks Ring Out In Acceptance Of His Speech.

Rip, And The Other Soldiers Skilled With Rifles Raise Their Guns In Salute

He Lowered His Voice To The Gravest Of Tones,

"_And Benefit Millennium As A Whole._"

We All Salute The Major As He Leaves The Stand, Then Flush Out Back Into What We Were Doing.

I Caught A Glimpse Of Rip, During The Speech.

Standing Proud, The Black Cloth Of Her Outfit Pressed, And Ironed.

Gun Raised In Defiance Of God As We All Hailed This Madman Who Was Our Leader.

She's Such A Great Person, Sometimes.

I Hope She Finds Someone.

Someone Smart, And Witty Like She Is.

Someone A Lot Like The Doctor, Without Being Deranged, And Impatient Like He Is.

Someone With A Nice, Lilting Voice Like Hers, When She Sings Along To '_Der Freischutz_' .

Someone You Won't Find Lounging In The Halls Of Millennium.

I Wanted To Talk To Rip, And Make Sure There Weren't Any Dug-Up Hatchets Over Last Night.

She Was At The Shooting Range The Soldiers Usually Practice At, Doing Exactly As The Major Instructed.

Training, Being At The Top, Benefiting Millennium.

"Rip?" I Question.

She Doesn't Turn Around, Her Cheek Still Pressed Against Her Gun, Aiming Behind Her Glasses.

"Schrodinger?"

I Shift Around Uneasily, How Should I Word This?

"Are You _Okay?_" Very Badly Done, I Admit.

A Plume Of Smoke Bursts Out Her Rifle, The Bullet Whizzing Past Her Target.

"_Damn..._" She Mutters.

She Manipulates The Round, Looping It Past So It Strikes The Target Anyways.

She Doesn't Say Anything, And I Think About Asking Again, There's Just This Long Pause.

She Sighs, Setting Her Musket To The Floor, And Leaning Carelessly Over It.

"I'm Fine," She Says, Half-Heartedly.

I Deflate Into Myself, I Might As Well Just Be Blunt, Or She'll Just Toy Around The Question.

"About Last Night..."

Her Face Goes Slack, Save For Her Expression Of Drudgery.

"Yes, Sorry," She Says Sheepishly. She Seemed Almost Embarrassed.

She Has No Right, Nor Reason To Be Sorry.

"No." I Say Flatly.

I Kind Of Regretted Saying It At First Because I Lost My Point.

"Forgive Me For My Behavior," I Stated, As If I Were Being Scolded By The Doctor, Or The Major.

"I Wasn't In The Right Mind." I Finished, Stating The Obvious.

She Sighed Discontent With What I Had To Say, I Scrambled To Pick Up The Pieces Of My Point.

"You're Great, Trust Me, But..."

"Oh, Am I?" She Interrupted, Her Voice Laced With Sly Tones.

"Yes But,"

"Tell Me, What Makes Me _Great_?" She Cut In, Again.

"You're Very Intelligent." I Said.

"And, Very Refined In Taste," I Was Practically Flattering Her, Like The Major.

"And A Good Shot." I Said Jokingly, Pointing At Her Target, With The Looped Bullet-Hole.

I Had To Start Before She Could Interrupt Me Again.

"But..."

I Couldn't Find It, That Last Piece Of My Point.

It Was Scattered Somewhere On The Ground, Littered Alongside Bullet Casings From The Soldiers' Practicing.

"_You Deserve Better._" I Finished; It Was Somewhat True, And It Fit The Piece's Place.

She Sat There For A Long While, Peering At Me Over Her Glasses.

This Uncomfortable, Silent, But Burning Tension Had Began To Swell In The Air,

Clouded, And Mixed In With The Trademark Smell Of Burnt Powder, And Spent Cartridges.

"Do Not Settle," I Started Off, As Uneasily As I'd Begun, "For Anyone."

It Was Odd, To Say The Least, How She Stood Up, And Suddenly Looked A Lot Like Me.

Her Eyes Weary With That Look Of Sleeplessness, And Her Hair, Almost Blasphemously Unkempt,

All Things You'd Overlook From Afar, Catching Glimpses Of Someone, In The Midst Of A Rally.

A Wide, Predatory Smile, Like The Doctor's Spread Neatly Across Her Face, In Seconds.

My Face Jerked To The Side, And The Side Of My Cheek Numbed, With A Quiet 'Clap', And A Gasp.

It Took Me A Little Bit To Work The Feeling Back Into My Face, And Comprehend That I'd Been Slapped, Very Hard.

Her Eyes Held That Same Sultry Look Of The Previous Conversation, But That Wolf's Smile Betrayed It.

"I Won't." She Said, Laughing.

It Was A Joke. It Wasn't One-Hundred Percent One, But I Could Tell.

She Was Still A Little Wounded Over Things, But We Joked Like Old Times.

"Oh, And One Thing," I Started, Getting Up To Leave.

"The Next Time The Major Has Sometime To Say, May I Borrow Your Book?"

Rip Felt Around In A Pocket, Producing '_Faust_'.

"Don't Bend The Pages." She Whispered.


	14. Pause

_I Want To Take The Chance To Say Sorry, If This Chapter Is Some Sort Of Stark Contrast To The Rest Of The Story, That I've Written So Far. There's Been A Lot Of Time Since I've Wrote The Others, And I'm A Little Bit On Edge, Because I'm Going Through Some Things, And Questioning A Lot Of Others. I Hope It's Not Too Radically Different From The Others I've Written._

* * *

It Felt So Grand, It Felt So Liberating To Be That Way.

To Know That Everything Was Fixed For The Moment, And Everyone Was Okay.

To Be Entirely Certain You've Not Harmed Anyone You Haven't Intended To.

I Waltzed Happily From Facility To Facility, My Mind Already Developing Some Sort

Of Mental Tape Reel Of What The Future Would Be Like From Here On Up.

My Future, In My Head, Seemed As Grand As I Did.

I Would Work Diligently On The Doctor's Tests, I'd Hum Happily To Rip's Operas,

I'd Swing Past Zorin With A Sense Of Superiority, And All Would Be Fine.

Of Course, I Suppose I Have A Rather Bad Tendency To Let My Mind Run Ahead Of Me.

Things Are Never As Great As Your Mind Can Tell You.

Well, Perhaps I'm Lying, Sometimes They Really Are, Until Circumstance Ruins It.

I Started Off This Day With The Notion That I Would Breeze Through Things,

And Then Sleep Happy, And Content With This Drunk, Bored, Routine World.

I'd Been About Half Way Into Our Main Building, When The All-Too-Familiar Sound

Of A Clipboard, Bouncing Slightly Off A Table As It Was Set Down, Echoed.

"Ah! Schrodinger," The Doctor Cried In His Cheerfully Misleading Manner,

"Taking Your Time Returning From Our Rally, I See."

I Nodded Slightly, Giving Him A Bit Of The Satisfaction Of Being Right, "Yes."

The Doctor Brushed A Bit Of His Hair Back Behind Those Unnerving Goggles Glued To His Face.

"And What, May I Ask, Were You So Preoccupied With As To Ignore The Major's Orders?"

I Quickly Began To Talk More Than A Simple Reply, When The Major Was Brought Into This,

There's Still That Certain Something, That Hidden Lie That Disturbs Me About Him.

"I Was Conversing With First Lieutenant Van Winkle, Doctor." I Hastily Answered,

"But, I Was _Certainly_ Not Disobeying The Major" I Added,

I Was Kind Enough To Toss In A Spin Of Sarcasm For His Bringing Of My Superiors Into This.

The Doctor's Hair Fell Back Out Of Place, And Sank Back In Front Of His Glasses,

A Thin Expression Of Irritation Soured His Face, "Ah, But You Did. You See," He Began,

"The Major Said To Benefit Us," That Superior Smirk Everyone Seems To Be Wearing As Of Late Came Across His Face, "And You're Useless As Long As You're Not Testing."

The Doctor Toyed, Dissatisfied, With His Glasses, "However, It Seems The Major Has Other Plans."

The Six-Fingered Destroyer Of My Carefree Day Frowned, Disappointed With His Orders,

"It Seems Herr Major Would Like You To Join Our Captain," He Wasn't Even Done Speaking, And My Feeling Was Already Back To The One He'd Ruined, "And Temporarily Relocate To Another Camp."

He Let A Distant Sigh Escape His Lips,

"Apparently, Your One-Day Trip To Schwartzchild Wasn't Enough To Keep Herr Major Happy"

I Was Ecstatic, For Once In A Long While, I Would Escape The Dank Walls Of The Headquarters,

And This Time, I Would Enjoy Myself, Far More Than The Last. I Shudder As I Recall Being Captured.

The Doctor Sighed The Sigh Of A Failed Artist, "How He Expects You To Learn From This, Eludes Me."

I Smirked, "Thank You, Herr Major," I Whispered Beneath My Breath.

The Doctor Leered At Me, Demurely, "I Suggest You See Him, For Your Orders."

"Has He Not Given Them To You?" I Questioned.

"Of Course Not. Am I To Do Your Work, Schrodinger?"

I Sighed, And Stormed Past Him, And To The Stairway That Would Lead Me To The Major's Quarters.

He Can Link Even The Most Simple Of Comments To Things To Insult Me, The Doctor Can.

He Is Beginning To Irritate Me, And I Can Honestly Say I'm Very Glad To Be Rid Of Him, For A Bit.

None Of His Condescending Tones, And Idle Tests For Awhile.

I Wasn't Much In The Mood To Take The Stairs, To Be Honest. I Simply Appeared At His Door, In Favor.

I Knocked Dutifully At His Heavy, Oak Door. The Hollow Sound Resonated For A Bit,

Before The Major's Almost Comically Cheerful Voice Answered My Calling Hands,

"Please, Come In." It's Unnerving As To How Bipolar The Major's Personality Can Be.

I Pressed On The Door, And It Swung Open, I'm Surprised To Hear It Does Not Groan.

Apparently, And Expectedly, The Major Enjoys A Higher Standard Of Life Than Us.

He Sits Quietly At His Massive Desk, Rifling Through Papers Organized Into Neat Folders.

There's A Pleasing Scent In The Air. It's Tea, Earl Grey, The Bergamot In The Air Betrays It.

As Mentioned Before, My Nose Is Rather Keen On Things Like This.

The Major Sipped Tiredly At His Tea, "What Is It You Need, Schrodinger?"

I Stood At Attention, And Sat Down "My Orders, Major?" The Major Smiled With An Odd Sort Of Satisfaction.

"Always Straight To The Point, Aren't You?" He Returned To His Cup, Gingerly Sipping His Tea.

"I'd Like You To Simply Keep An Eye On The Occupants There," The Major Set His Cup Down,

"There's Also Been Quite A Bit Of Recent Activity In The Area." The Major Stood Up,

His Overstuffed Chair Groaning Painfully As He Did, And Walked Far Behind Me,

Where My Eyes Could No Longer Follow His Footsteps, "Take Care Of It, Should You See It."

His Short, Well-Combed Hair Fell Uncomfortably Close To My Neck, Where I Longed For The Captain To Be.

His Breath, Strong With The Thick Heat And Smell Of His Drink Overwhelmed My Senses, As He Leaned Over My Seat To Whisper Into My Ear, "_Do Not Fail Me, Schrodinger._"

There Is Was Again, That Terrible, Iced Threat And Wrenching, Vulgar Reality.

"My Loyalty, Major." I Said, A Bit Dishonest In Praise And Scared In My Gratification.

"Dismissed." He Stated, His Happily-Bipolar Tone Contrasting Horribly With His Previous Words.

I Shivered As Soon As I Was Out Of The Major's Room. Something About Him Makes My Blood Run Cold.

Descended A Single Flight Of Stairs, Stopping At Our Corridors, And Starting Towards The Captain's Door.

I Be Sure To Push The Previous Discomfort Of The Major's Behavior Far Back Into My Mind, And Put On

A Much-Overdue Smile For My Captain, Before I Open His Door.

His Room Is More Barren Than Before, And His Suitcase Is Zipped. Packed And Neat In The Middle Of His Bed.

He Reads, Unknowing Of My Entrance, Or Too Transfixed To Care. I Really Seem To Interrupt His Literature!

I Step, Making Not A Sound, To His Back, Before I Snake My Arms Beneath His, And Nip Playfully At His Exposed Ears, Being Sure To Use My Tiny Fangs Gently Enough As To Not Sink Into Him.

A Coy Smile Crosses The Corner Of His Lips That I Can See. He Picks Me Up Easily In His Arms,

And Sets Me Onto The Bed We'd Fondly Enjoyed All That Time Ago. He Climbs Between My Legs, Until His Face Reaches Mine.

He Places A Sensualist's Kiss Onto My Neck, I Lay Back A Bit, Until The Sharp Jab Of His Suitcase's Corners Make Themselves Known, And I Curl Uncomfortably Into Myself. He Moves To My Belt.

For Some Reason, I Thought Of Rip, And Suddenly And Inexplicably, I Wanted To Leave Here.

I Pull Him Higher, And Hold Him Closer. He Looks So Restless, And Annoyed.

"_Not Yet_", I Whisper, Quietly Into His Ear, "_Not Here._"

He Collects Himself, Stands, And Gently Reapplies His Masked Features, And I Sink My Head Into His Chest.

"_Just A Bit Longer._"


	15. Of Blood And Glasses

_I Think A Certain Miss Ali Pope Deserves Just As Much Credit For Writing This As I Do,_

_Thank You, Ali, For So Much Patience, And For So Much Encouragement And Many Ideas._

_ As For Everyone Else, Feel Free To Shamelessly Indulge. _

* * *

I Have Never Heard Our Captain Speak. Only In My Dreams. 

But, If His Voice Is Anything Like His Gasps, He Knowingly Hides It, In Hopes

Of Masking More Beauty Than His Coat Hides.

Regardless, I Had Denied Him, In The Brief Time Before Our Trip, I Will Say He Was Disheveled.

Maybe, Considering That Wolfish Face Hidden Behind His Calm One, '_Starved_' Is A Better Word.

It Was Starting To Show, That More-Primal Face.

I Could See His Mask Thinning, Like Enamel As It Is Stripped Off Teeth.

His Vibrant, Expressive Eyes Now Dimmed With Annoyance And His Well-Worn Uniform

Was Loosened, Drooping, As To Hide His Blatant, More-Prominent Fascination With Me.

Never, Until Now, Had I Taken The Time To Look At My Somewhat Warped Mind.

I Couldn't Help But Feel Somewhat Powerful. More Influential, Maybe?

No Doubt, I Have My Reasons For Being Here. I Have My Talents To Lend Herr Major.

There's A Reason, A Very Big One, That I Was Cooked Up In One Of The Doctor's Pots.

But, I'm Sure Of All My Skills, My Affections Are The More Powerful,

Having Left The Sculpted, Stoic Captain A Loose-Coated, Aroused Lover.

Thinking That, I Grasped Hold Of My Wandering Mind, And Felt Guilty.

The Captain Is Not Some Sort Of Landmark Triumph I Can Claim For Myself.

Damn Herr Major, And Damn The Doctor For Instilling That Sort Of Talk In Me,

And Damn Myself For Sinking To Their Simple Levels.

I'd Like To Think Myself A Bit More Intellectual,

Although Less Scientific And Political, Than Either Of Them.

I Was Annoyed With Myself Now, Thanks To That Wandering Delusion Of Power.

I Gracelessly Seized My Suitcase, Along With My Thoughts, And Packed.

Mindless, Repetitive Things, I'd Assumed, Would Mellow Out My Disdain For Myself.

You Might Think Packing Would Be Exciting, But, Here, It's The Same Old Suitcase Filled With Clothing That All Looks Alike, To Go Out Into A Routine Of Driving, And Stopping, At A Place You've Already Been To, Only Them To Unpack Said Repetitive Items In A Room Like All The Others.

I Folded My Uniforms And Looked For Some Form Of Individuality In Them.

There Wasn't Much: A Loose Seam Here, Tear There, Some Burns From Sloppy Ironing.

Suddenly, I Had Picked Up My Old Resents For This Military Lifestyle.

I Folded My Socks, And Tucked Them In Neatly With My Clothes, Pushing Away My Thoughts.

I Set A Spare Set Of Gloves On Top Of One Of The Uniforms, And Slipped In An Extra Tie In, Too.

You Can Never Be Too Careful. I Suppose That Seems Odd Of Me To Say; I Can Be As Careless As I'd Like To Be, But I Suppose A Social Image Is A Bit More Fragile Than Life, In My Case.

Stood Up From My Suitcase, And Folded My Legs Into Themselves, To Stretch.

I Was Feeling Very Stiff From Squatting Over My Suitcase.

It Hadn't Occurred To Me That I'd Left My Door Ajar, Until I Saw The Captain Pass.

He Exchanged A Lustful Glance As I Stretched Leisurely, Reclining Against The Wooden Foot Of My Bed.

I Flashed A Toothy, Knowing Smile At Him, And Twiddled My Gloved Fingers At Him.

He Shook His Head, Resiliently, And Dutifully Continued About His Way, His Suitcase Trailing Lazily After Him.

Pulled My Gloves A Bit Tighter, Picked Up My Belongings, And Shut My Door, Tagging Along.

* * *

I Smile In My Confirmed Suspicions. A Vehicle, Like Thousands We Have At Disposal, Waits For Us. 

How Droll, It Seemed, To See The Dull Little Thing Waiting For Um.

There Was Something I Didn't Count On. It Tipped My Feeling Of Knowledge Onto The Floor.

A Man Wearing A Pair Of Upside-Down Styled Spectacles, And A Well-Starched Lab-Coat Sat In The Seat

I Was Hoping The Captain Would Take, Next To Me, In The Back Of The Small Transport.

He Put On A Mask Like The Captain's But, It Was Different.

I'd Like To Think Of The Captain's Like One Of Those Smooth Stone Greek Drama Ones.

His Was More Like Plastic. A Wide, Plastic Smile Of Professionalism Stretched His Thin Face.

He Had Short Black Hair, That Was Combed All Over To One Side; Much Like The Major's.

Who Was He?

"Ah! I Suspect You're Schrodinger, Correct?"

Hm, Some Bright Fellow He Is. Did The Ears Give It Away, Perhaps?

I Glared At Him, And Nodded Slowly.

"I'll Be Administering Your Testing, On Behalf Of The Doctor." He Said, Putting On That Wide Plastic Grin, Again.

Damn That Man. Always Meddling With Everything. Putting His Six-Fingered Hands In My Affairs.

I Imagined Him, Sitting, And Complaining To The Major In A Nasally Voice, _But He Won't __Learn__, Herr Major!_

"Ah! It's Grand That I'll Have A Nuisance To Fill In For Him" I Said, Cheerfully And Spitefully.

He Tipped His Glasses, Like Rip Often Does, And Frowned.

"I Have My Orders," He Said Quietly. He Pushed A Thick Envelope Into My Hands, "And Yours."

I Sat Down Next To Him, The Captain Taking The Seat Next To Our Driver.

"This Is An Awful Lot Of Wasted Paper To Say '_Keep An Eye On Things_'" I Said, Trying To Get A Rise Out Of Him.

I Really Don't Much Care For The Stuffy, Superior Doctor-Types, Like Him.

Seeing As He's Only _In Contact_ With The Doctor, And Not Him, _Personally_

I Don't See The Consequences In Having A Bit Of Fun At His Expense.

I Tucked The Paper Envelope Under My Spare Arm, And Turned To Tell Him He Was Just Here For Show,

But As I Turned, With My Smirk Openly Displayed, The Captain Eyed Me With A Look Of Disdain.

Suddenly, I Just Sank Back Into The Uncomfortable Seat, And Set My Suitcase On The Floor Of The Car.

The Car Started Off Past The Gates, And The Car Was Quiet.

I Don't Really Remember Much After That, Until We Were About A Quarter Of The Way There.

I Had, Apparently, Fallen Asleep Shortly After We'd Begun The Drive.

I Had Awoken To The Doctor's Hand Uncomfortably Pressed Into My Neck.

I Sat Up, When I Noticed I Was Tilted Towards Him.

He Had A Look Of Dislike On His Spectacled Face, "You Almost Leaned Against Me, _Warrant Officer_."

He Slurred My Position Like An Insult. I'm Sure Even The Major Falls Asleep. Probably Quite Regularly, Too.

I Glared, "Ah, _Pardon Me_. I Didn't Fog Up Your _Glasses_, Did I?" I Asked, Tipping Them Up With A Finger.

As He Opened His Mouth To Complain, The Driver Came To A Stop.

It Was The Gloomy Gates To The Camp, Arching Angrily Against The Bleary Sky.

He Flashed His Paperwork To The Soldier At The Gate, And They Rolled The Metal Fence Back.

The Replacement-Doctor's Response Sank Into A Murmur Of Light Profanity.

We Came To A Stop, And I Picked Up My Papers, Which I Had Unknowingly Creased In My Sleep,

And My Suitcase, And Started Into The Camp, With Much More Vigor Than I Had, Last Visit.

They Had A Different Man From Last Time, Perched Over Papers At A Computer.

He Tipped His Hat In Salute. "Welcome Back To Schwartzchild."

He Pointed Us To Our Quarters, And Resumed His Filing.

Never In My Life Have I Been So Eager To Unpack.

I Eagerly Unraveled My Mess Of Belongings, And Sorted Them Into A Footlocker,

I Looked Across The Hall, Past My Open Door, At The Captain.

He Was Quiet. He _Looked_ Quiet. He Had Regained His Lost Composure.

It Would Seem I Had Caught Him As He Was Finishing Unpacking, Shutting His Dresser, A Belonging

My Room Seems To Lack, In Favor Of That Dull, Dinged-Up Metal Footlocker That The Soldier Would Probably Use,

And Setting A Copy Of Some Well-Read Book Onto His Bed, Before He Sat Down Next To It.

He Seemed To Notice Me, Staring At Him.

He Unbuttoned The Collar Of His Jacket, Exposing The Lower Half Of His Face; And Flashing

A Thin, Refined, And Suggestive Smile At Me, In An Almost Mocking Rendition Of My Teasing Smile At Headquarters.

I Looked Away, And Quickly And Idly Toyed With My Extra Pair Of Gloves, Before I Opened The Footlocker,

And Set Them Of The Folded Uniforms, Like I Had When I Packed My Suitcase.

I Think Most Of That Day Was Spent Waiting.

Waiting To Stop Feeling Guilty.

Waiting To Get To Camp.

Waiting For The Clock To Tell Us It Was Late.

Waiting For The Captain.

* * *

It Was Late, Dark Enough To Tell You To Get To Sleep, But Not Late Enough To Leave You Exhausted. 

Well, Maybe It Was Late Enough To Leave You Exhausted,

And I Was Fine, On Account Of Having Slept On The Way Here.

I Gave A Passing "_Goodnight._" To A Few Passing Soldier, And The Doctor's Lap-Dog.

Then Walked Nonchalantly Into My Room, And Slipped Myself Into Bed.

I Waited For It To Get Quiet, The Awkward, Loud Goosesteps Of The Soldier's Boots,

And The Doctor's Quiet Scuffling Fading Out Of The Hallway As They Returned To Their Rooms.

The Halls Fell Silent, And I Smiled Coyly At My Ceiling.

I Inched Out Of My Blankets, And Slinked To My Door.

I Accidentally Kicked My Footlocker, Halfway Through The Room.

I Cursed Under My Breath. It Hurt, And It Wasn't Exactly Stealthy.

I Continued Inching To The Door, And Slowly Turned The Nob, And Shut The Door Just As Slowly Behind Me.

I Checked The Halls For Some Of The Late-Night Inhabitants Of The Camp, Then Slipped Into The Captain's Room.

Oh, This Had Been Too Long-Withheld!

He Sat Expectantly At His Bed, The Book That Once Sat Next To His As He Unpacked Now Neatly Hidden, Somewhere.

I Stormed In, With Quiet Steps, Grabbed The Bill Of His Hat, And Put It On Myself.

To Be Honest, It Was Uncomfortable, It Pressed My Ears Painfully Against My Hair.

I Played It Off, However. I Showed My Cattish Teeth, And Playfully Tipped The Hat To One Side.

The Captain Trailed His Hand Through His Exposed Blonde Hair, Loosening It From The Hat's Shape.

He Looks So Grand. His Dark-Gloved Hands Hiding Behind The Sleeves Of His Long Jacket.

His Vivid Eyes Glowing Beneath His Now-Tussled Blonde Hair.

I Tipped The Hat Upwards, To Look Up From Beneath My Hair, "_Hello, Captain._" I Said, Casually.

He Resumed His Place From Where We'd Left Off, Pinning Me Carefully Beneath Him.

He Held Himself Up With His Arms, Looking At Exposed, Defenseless Me, With A Look Of Ominous Satisfaction.

I Flushed, Somewhat Nervously.

Did He Expect Me To Do Something?

He Simply Stayed Like That, His Lips Slack, Smiling, With His Eyes, At Me.

I Gave A Sheepish Smile, "You Seem _Tense_." I Said, But It Came More As A Question.

A Halfhearted Chuckle Left My Lips, At My Own Joke.

He Wagged A Finger At Me As To Disagree, And Tapped At My Chest, As To Say, "_No, You_."

I Eyed Him Curiously.

Suddenly, I Felt Like I Had, Our First Time Like This. Unconfident.

I Was Unsure As To How He Wanted Me To React, And For Once, His Silent Nature Seemed To Be An Obstacle.

He Trailed His Hands Down From My Neck, Leaving A Path Of Unfastened Buttons.

My Uniform Was Opened, And My Tie Hung Loosely From My Neck.

Then, Something Odd Happened. He Completely Disregarded My Undershirt, And Loosened My Belt.

A Small _Ah?_ Of Confusion Escaped Me, But He Turned A Confident Smile Up From My Unbuckled Belt.

He Fumbled Unskillfully With The Buttons Beneath It, Until I Hesitantly Undid Them, For Him.

Looked Nervously Down At Him, As He Ease Away The Last Bit Of Privacy I Had.

I Shivered. It Was Colder In The Room Than I'd Hoped.

I Looked Up At The Ceiling, In Reluctant Anticipation.

Suddenly, My Spine Tingled, A Sensation Of Warmth Made My Legs Jerk.

I Looked Down To See The Captain's Hair, Draped To Obscure His Face, As His Head Rose, And Fell.

I Felt Very Embarrassed. This Doesn't Seem Like Something You'd Typically Do.

It Felt Unnatural. Almost Taboo.

I Had Begun To Sit Up, But He Hadn't Stopped.

I Reclined Back On A Free Hand, And My Other Was Now Knotted In His Hair.

I Crumbled. The Sense Of Superiority I'd Carried On About The Day

Now Amounted To A Handful Of Shameless Gasps, And Shakily Taken Breaths.

My Toes Curled Into My Shoes.

I Opened My Mouth To Say Something, But Only A Struggled Gasp Came.

I Felt Myself Tense, And Loosen, And Fold Into Myself.

The Captain Sat Up, A Out Of Character Look Of Fondness, And Nonchalant Intimacy On His Face.

I Took A Moment To Calm Down, And Recollect Myself.

I Took A Few More-Stable Breaths, And Chuckled Awkwardly.

I Had, For No Real Reason, Recalled The Captain's Loosened Jacket.

For Some Reason, It Seemed Silly.

Then I Recalled I Wasn't The Only Person In The Room.

I Pressed Myself Against The Captain's Jacket, And Looked Up At Him.

I Let My Breaths Fan Gently Against His Neck, And Pressed My Clothed Body Against His Lap,

My Arms Looped Around His Shoulders, Like A Child Might Hang From An Adult.

I Saw That Casual Look Fade Into Something More Lustful.

I Flashed Him The Same Smile I Had When He'd Passed Me, Stretching.

We Continued On Like We Had, The Previous Time.

I Slipped My Jacket Off, My White Undershirt Embarrassingly Dotted With Sweat.

He Inched My Belt, And What It Held Up To The Floor, And I Folded My Legs Around His Back.

He Held My Sides, And I Kept Balance With My Arms Around His Neck.

I Rested My Chin Against One Arm, My Gasps, Coming With Each Push On His Part, Into His Ear.

Suddenly. I Felt Something Break.

The Feeling Of Intimacy Vanished, And As Quickly As It Did, I Hurt.

I Let A Pained Mewl Flee Into The Captain's Ear, But He Unknowingly Continued.

I Flushed At The Vaguely-Familiar Feeling Of Flooding Warmth As The Captain Stopped, And Settled Breathlessly.

We Stayed Laying Like That For Awhile.

I Didn't Mention The Pain.

Neither Of Us Spoke.

After Awhile, I Stood Up, And Walked To The Captain's Bathroom.

I Turned On The Shower, Pleased To Find The Water Was Warm, Shortly After Doing So.

Washed My Hair, And Carefully Cleaned The Sore Area At My End.

Blood.

I Whimpered Softly To Myself, As I Noticed The Thin, Red Tint Of My Hand.

I Was Bleeding.

* * *

I Stepped Out Of The Shower, And Gently Wrapped A Towel Around Myself, Bunching Up My Clothes 

In My Free Hands, Then Inched Into The Captain's Room. It Looked As If He Were Sleeping.

It Almost Seemed Odd For The Captain To Sleep Like That, After What We'd Done.

Personally, A Shower Seems To Make Things Better, Afterwards, In My Opinion, And It's Less Noticable.

But, I Knew That Undoubtedly The Captain Would Be Sculpted Into His Usual Calm, And Uniform Self,

And Nobody Would Be Even Suspicious That He'd Slept Like This In The First Place.

I Stepped Gingerly Into The Hallways.

It Was So Cold.

The Beads Of Water That Still Dotted My Body Now Felt Frigid And Iced In The Night Air.

I Shivered And Stepped Towards My Door, Before I Felt A Cold Hand On My Shoulder.

I Overreacted, And Spun Around. Call Me Paranoid, But A Cold Hand On Your Shoulder At Midnight Unnerves Me.

My Legs Ached In Sore Pangs At The Sudden Reaction, And My Towel Threatened To Leave Me Bare.

"_Schrodinger?_"

From The Glint Of The Glasses In The Dark, I Could Tell It Was The Doctor's Assistant.

"What Do You Think You're Doing?"

I Tried To Play The Unwitting Fool.

"Returning To My Room Doctor." I Said, Stating The Obvious.

The Man Nodded, Clearly Unconvinced With My Answer, Despite It's Truth, In Technicality.

Suddenly, He Looked Amused, "You're _Bleeding_, Schrodinger."

I Looked Down At My Legs. A Thin, Red Streak Trailed Down The Inside Of My Leg, Vanishing With A Coppery Orange Smear Beneath My Towel, "Ah, I Must Have Clipped Myself, Borrowing A Towel From The Captain."

The Man Tipped His Glasses, A Habit Of His It Seemed, And Smiled At The Mention Of The Captain.

"Please, Return To Your Affairs." He Said, Waving His Gloved Hand At Me, Dismissively.

I Swear, As He Turned Away, The Major's Grin Was Stretched Across His Face, As Wide As It Could Possibly Go.


	16. Forebode

_Okay, This Is Just A Pathetically-Late Teaser. __I Had Planned To Go The Whole Mile, And Not Have It Cliffhanger, __But It's Almost The End Of The Week, And My Writing Time Is Getting Shorter, And Shorter. __Again, Major Kudos To Ali Pope; She's My Conductor In This Perverted, And Crazy Orchestra. __I'll Work On Getting The Good Parts In, Later, But I Had To Knock This Out, First._

* * *

I Had Paced Back Into My Room, And Slammed My Door.

There Was A Murmur Of complaint From Someone, Who From The Sound Of It,

Was Very Frustrated, And Trying To Put Something Mechanical Together.

Suddenly, The Hall Was Filled With Rip's Usual Daily Ritual Of Tenors And Sopranos.

The Ones She Usually Plays As She Drowns Her Poor Musket In Polish And Oils.

I Recognized The Mechanical Thing As Her Record Player, And The Frustrated Mechanic As Our First Lieutenant. I Smiled Quietly To Myself. 

It's Nice To Hear She's Be Relocated Here As Well.

But For Now, There Would Be No Chummy, And Casual Exchanges Of Pleasantries.

There Was A Single, Nagging Detail That Was Ingrained In My Mind.

That Disrespectful Assistant. Who Does He think He Is?

A Doctor, Surely, But He's Still An Assistant.

Where Does He Inherit the Right To Look Down Upon A High-Ranking Officer.

A High-Ranking Officer In Millennium! A Superior, Nonetheless!

I Glared Down At The Bronzing Smear Of Diluted blood That Streamed Down

My Leg, And Erased It, As Quickly As I Had Noticed It, With My Towel. 

He Certainly Is An Observant Bastard.

I Flopped Back Into my Own Bed A Convinced Myself It Had Felt Like Water,

So It Was Only Natural That I Hadn't Paid Any Attention To It.

Under Normal Circumstances, I'm Still Very Much More Competent Than Him.

I Fell Asleep To The Odd Myriad Of Sound That Echoed In The Halls.

When I'm Exhausted, And A Bit Frustrated, I Guess They're Familiar And Soothing.

The Soft _Cling-Clank_ Of Late-Night Drunks Melting Into Classicals And Operas,

Like Wind Chimes Tossed About In A Heavy Wind. The Heavy, Awkward-Footed

Steps Of A Thoroughly Drunk Somebody, Stumbling Back To Their Room.

They seemed Fainter, And Fainter, Until I Couldn't Recall Them Anymore.

* * *

I Awoke To A Much More Discordant Symphony. The Angry _Clack-Clack_ Of 

Gun Chambers Being Cleaned, And A Long, Outstretched Scratch, Like Someone Sharpening A Knife. I Put On My Clothes, Coifed My Hair With My Hands,

And Quickly Left The Ugly Noised Behind. I Started Quickly Down The Stairs.

I Hadn't Made It A Good Three Steps Down, Before A Loud, Raspy Voice Called Me.

" '_ey Schrodinger!_", I Traced The _Skritch-Skretch _Of The Sharpening To The Sharpener.

I Leaned Casually Outside The Door, "Yes?"

"Come In Here." They Said, Sounding Unusually Friendly For A Soldier.

I Didn't Want To.

I Could Hear That Ear-Splitting Drag From Their Sharpening Board.

I Turned The Knob, And Hesitantly Let Myself In.

Zorin Blitz.

I Could Smell The Musk Of Her Sweat Easing Through The Floorboards,

Somewhere Between The Moment She Called Me Back, And Now.

I Could Taste That Thick Aura Of Blood, Salt, And Spilt Liquor, That Constantly Seemed To Streamline Off Her.

I Gazed At The Wreckage That One Could Call Zorin's Quarters.

There Were Week-Old Clothes And Socks Strewn About The Floor,

Golden Sunlight Spilled Onto Them, Making Them All Look Damp, And Jaundiced Into A Sickly Yellow.

She Was Sitting On Her Unmade Bed, One Already Dotted With Ugly Stains And Cigarette Burns. She Must Have Been Living Here For Weeks.

Maybe A Month Or Two. It's Hard To Make Zorin's Room Zorin's, In A Span Of Days.

It Takes A Lot Of Time For Zorin To Legitimately Trash A Room To Her Likeness.

Her Face Was Drenched In Sweat. It's Astonishing That She Doesn't Simply Sweat The Ink Right Out Of Her Tattoos. I Looked On, Feeling Rather Revolted.

She Beamed A Skeletal Smile At Me, Clearly biting The Filter Of Her Cigarette, In Doing So.

Smoky Fingers Of A Ghostly Hand Drifted Lazily Through The Spaces In Her Teeth.

She Ran A Spare Hand Through Her Damp Hair, Setting Her Scythe, Which She'd Evidently Been Sharpening,

Aside On Her Bed, Next To A Tobacco-Brown Burn. She Plucked The Cigarette From Her Lips,

And Let A Feverish Wave Of Ash And Heat Escape Into The Room.

"Morning, Warrant Officer."

I Looked Cautiously Around At Her Room;

A Dresser. An Ashtray Piled High With The White Corpses Of Cremated Cigarettes, And The Stumps Of Thick, Stubby Cigars.

"Blitz." I Said, Quietly Acknowledging Her.

"The Head Administrator And Board Of Schwartzchild's Representatives Would Like To Speak With You."

I Nodded, "Ah, Perhaps _Later_, I Suppose."

To Be Perfectly Honest, I Was Eager To Leave Zorin's Domain As Soon As I Was Able To.

"No. I've Been Asked To Take You. _Orders_."

I Tried To Appeal To Her Feral, More-Primal Senses. Zorin Has A Lot Of Those.

"And Who's This _Camp_ To Order _Zorin Blitz_ Around?"

Her Good Eye Darkened, With Some Sort Of Sadness, Or Regret, Or Some Other Distant Emotion.

"I'd Prefer To Stay On The Major's Good Side, Today, Warrant Officer." She Seemed To Admit Sadly.

She Got Up, And Brushed Herself Off, A Thin Smattering Of Metal Dust Drifted Onto Her Floor.

* * *

As We Talked Into The Odd, Winding Halls I Noted That We Passed The Man, Sorting Out Papers, Who'd Welcomed Me Twice, At His Desk. I Had Assumed Zorin Didn't Know Entirely Where She Was Going, As Well. We Were Both Lost; But For Once, I Was Glad To Be In Her Company. Best To Be Lost With Someone Else, Than It Is To Be Completely And Utterly On Your Own.

She Stopped In What Appeared To Be, Or Used To Be, An Auditorium.

It Had Faded Velvet Banners To Accentuate Some Long-Gone Speaker, And A Couple Faded

Posters With Political Statements And Statistics Brandished Wide Across Their Paper Faces.

"This Seems Quite The Obvious Place For A Politician, Hm?" I Said, Widely Swinging My Arms.

Usually That Would Amuse Someone, Or At Least Get A Chuckle.

Zorin Seemed Distracted. She Gazed Off Into One Of The Exits, Like An Awaiting Passenger.

"_Zorin?_"

A Wide Crew Of Men, All Uniformed, And Smiling Stormed In.

The Doctor's Assistant Trailed After Them, Riding Their Bootheels In An Assistant's Fashion.

He Walked Up Casually To The Woman, And Cast The Look Of A King Observing A Servant At Me.

"We Do Not Tolerate Such Behavior In Millennium." He Tipped His Glasses.

Zorin Pushed Him Behind Her, And Almost Crouched In A Threatening Pose.

"And, It's Sloppy To Have Our Enemies Among Us."

I Backed Away Slowly, As If I Were Avoiding An Rabid Dog. "What Are You Insinuating?"

The Assistant Stepped From The Side, And Resumed His Role As Speaker In The Auditorium.

"You Know, Just As Well As I, Warrant Officer," He Said, Ominously, "Just As Well As _Us_,"

"Just As Well As The Doctor," He Added.

He Took His Glasses Off, And Cleaned Them With The Hem Of His Overcoat.

"We Are Simply The Audience."

He Leaned Closer To Look At My Expression As He Finished Off His Speech,

"_Zorin's_ The Driving Force Here."


End file.
